Harry Potter and the Shunned House
by alexandertheII
Summary: What if Harry had stumbled upon magic earlier? What if someone had realized, how terrible his home life was? What, if he had met someone less prejudiced before Hogwarts? This is year 1 of my planned epos including Harry in Slytherin, Dumbledore scheming and an at least somewhat helpful Snape. Later HP/DG, no bash but not exactly nice either. Currently on HIATUS, not abandoned.
1. Chapter 1: Normalcy

**Chapter 1: Normalcy**

Normal.

Normal was a word held most sacred at Privet drive Number 4, Little Whinging, Surrey. As sacred as the word was the concept of normalcy behind it, or what the residents of the house thought to be normalcy.

Residents, at least those whose views had any meaning in this matter, included Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley. There was however one other person living in the oppressively normal house who -at least from the Dursleys' point of view- did his best to continually leap beyond the boundaries of normal. This made young Harry Potter abnormal, or, how Vernon liked to put it, freakish.

If you were to ask young Harry, he of course would say that strange things just kept happening to and around him, which he would be totally justified to say. Obviously no one ever did ask him.

The boy in question was a rather quiet one, small for his ten, almost eleven years, and very thin, an image not helped by the fact that he was wearing his cousins castoffs, which were several sizes too large for the underfed boy. He had jet-black hair, which always stood up in the back of the head (annoying his aunt not just a little bit) and brilliant, emerald-green eyes. The most prominent feature, at least in Harry`s eyes, was a scar on his forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightning. Harry could not remember a time when it had not been there, prominently displayed, sometimes tweaking him a bit.

It was a Saturday in early May, the alarm-clock in his bedroom (which just so happened to be a cupboard) had just hit 6am, when Harry Potter awoke. As it was a weekend day he still had a few minutes left to be by himself before it was time to prepare breakfast for the family. The timing had to be just right, as anything other than perfection in this matter resulted in severe consequences. He had learned this as a five year old, when he had first started making the weekend breakfasts: just once he had not woken up as early as he should have and when, at 7:30 sharp, his uncle had come down the stairs and sat down, the breakfast had not been on the table, he had received his first broken arm for his "lazy and freakish" behaviour. So, the next day, after the bone had miraculously healed itself overnight, making Vernon only the more livid, he got up earlier than ever before and had breakfast on the plates by seven. This had turned out to be an even bigger mistake, as when Vernon came down he declared eggs, bacon and sausages were cold and broke the arm again. Therefore, waking up on time was a rather crucial point to Harry Potter`s life.

After lying still for a few more minutes, Harry got up and started cooking breakfast. At her usual time, his aunt turned up in the kitchen, her only greeting "be on time, freak", went nearly unheard due to it being so much the usual. Petunia Dursley neè Evans was by no means a beautiful woman: She was tall, thin (qualities not necessarily ugly), a long neck to pry over fences and a face that could most closely be equated to that of a horse (most definitely an ugly quality, or so Harry thought).

At exactly 7:30 Uncle Vernon started to make his way down, the stairs groaning achingly under the walrus-like man`s weight. Behind him followed Harry`s cousin Dudley. Seeing those two together, Harry had no doubt in his mind whose son Dudley was as he, exactly like his father, was equally wide as he was high. Not that he was particularly tall, just very wide.

This perceived sense of normalcy however, was to be shattered most spectacularly.

oooooooooo

In another part of Britain, a purple triple decker bus jumped away with a loud BANG, just after having offloaded a rather weary looking elderly citizen. The bus sped through a small town in Suffolk BANG a rural road in Essex BANG Charing Cross Road in London BANG an annoyingly normal/boring neighbourhood in Surrey. Here, with a BANG that was decidedly different from the sound the jumping around elicited, the Knight Bus became visible. That, in and on itself would not have been a big problem, the problematic point however, was that it became visible to everyone.

oooooooooo

Harry Potter was weeding the flower beds in the front lawn when, all of a sudden and with a bright flash of light and a loud, booming sound, a bus appeared in the middle of Privet Drive. It was no normal Bus, as much was clear to Harry: It was bright purple, three stories high and out tumbled a rather old man mumbling curse words to himself, getting more and more irate.

"…of course, I told them to repair it, but why listen to me, neighbourhood full of muggles and the disillusionment aggregator breaks down. I'm getting too old for this dragon dung…" mumbled the seething man, just loud enough for Harry to hear. This caught his ears and he immediately started to watch with rapt attention.

Only minutes after the first BOOM, he started to hear more noises, similar to the first, yet distinctly different and definitely less deafening. Accompanied by a CRACK a strange man appeared in front of the now frightened boy; this man was wearing a rather curious combination of clothes consisting of combat boots, pyjama pants, a beige trench coat over a loud pink dress shirt, topped off by a woman`s straw hat. The man started to look around and his eyes fell on Harry, more specifically the scar shaped like a lightning bolt. Instantly his eyes grew wide and he fell on his knees, grasping Harry`s dirty hands in his own, starting to stumble out incoherent words. A few moments later, he drew a deep breath and started to talk, now almost managing to mask his immense agitation," Mr. Potter, it is such a great, very great honour to meet you. I thought you had been taken away from the wizarding world…"

Now he lost his countenance again, only to be interrupted by a now curious, if a bit scared Harry, "Who are you? Wizarding world? Please get away from me, my uncle will get angry…" his words left him mid-sentence as the man stared at him with an incredulous look, clearly not believing what he was seeing and hearing.

The stranger extricated himself from Harry, hopped up on his feet and drew out what seemed to Harry to be a strange stick of about 10 inches, muttered "obliviate" and Harry knew no more. Well, not nothing, something stuck: Wizarding world.

oooooooooo

Falling unconscious, as well as the abnormality of the weird bus appearing, which could only be due to Harry`s "freakishness", led to the worst beating the boy had experienced in his still short life. With several broken or cracked ribs and a broken radius to add to the numerous bruises all over his body, he dragged himself to his cupboard in the evening. Despite his pain, his curiosity was piqued.

Wizarding World….

Wizarding World…

 _"What can it mean? Magic? Uncle Vernon always says there`s no such thing like magic…"_ he mulled this over inside his head repeatedly without coming to any relevant conclusions and decided he would head to the library the first time he got the chance. It would be the new for him to go there to research something; usually it was to hide from Dudley and his gang when they did their ritual of 'Harry-hunting'. Books, or any form of storage of knowledge for that matter, usually drove them away rather effectively.

So, Harry resolved to go to the library the next day. After finishing his chores, that is…

oooooooooo

The following day, something miraculous happened; everything went according to plan. After his wounds had somehow healed during the night, Harry prepared breakfast, finished weeding the garden, cleaned the kitchen and scrubbed all toilets. It was a rather light workload, he thought.

Setting off to the library Harry contemplated a recurring dream of his that had returned just the same night. It did not contain a lot, mostly just fear, pain, a cold laughter and a blinding green light, but somehow he just knew it was the car crash his parents had died in. Where the green light and laughter came from he had no idea, still he was sure.

Caught up in these thoughts, he reached the public library and went to his usual spot by one of the windows in a chair where he usually waited for Dudley and his goons to get tired of waiting for him. This spot, however was now not nearly as isolated as it usually seemed to Harry; directly opposite his rather uncomfortable chair was a book shelf; nor just any book shelf, mind you, because it was transparent. Harry went over to the shelf, planning to touch it but found himself unable to do so. It was not that he could not reach for it, there was just nothing there for him to reach and as Harry tried to grab the shelf he just grabbed through it like through thin air. Thinking back he realised, he had never touched the shelf, something had always held him back. Now, though, his curiosity won and he stepped through the illusional shelf.

On the other side was another library, just as large as the 'normal' one. It looked, at least to a certain degree, similar. There were book shelves, chairs, tables; and that was about it for similarities. On differences Harry spotted torches and candles lighting the room, a strangely gigantic fireplace in one corner of the room and then he spotted the books…

Books in all shapes and sizes lined the walls, all of them old, all of them dusty, all of them bearing strange titles: _Fantastic Beasts and where to find them, Moste Potente Potions, Hogwarts: A History, Numerology and Grammatica,_ a book called _Secrets of the darkest Art_ that gave him a really queasy feeling and countless others. There was even a collection of magazines called _Transfiguration today,_ the latest one of them dated to September 1980. He kept walking along, reading the titles on the backs of the book until…

 _The Potter Legacy…_

It was a large book, at least two inches thick, the title done in gold to the background of the book`s black envelope. Full of curiosity, Harry pulled out the book and went to one of the chairs. He propped the book open to the first page and began reading.

 _The Potter Legacy_

 _Anonymous_

 _1492_

 _New and revised Edition, October 1980_

 _Revisions done by B. Bagshot_

As Harry started skimming through the book, something fell out of the last pages. Picking it up, Harry found it to be a folded piece of a strange, paper-like material. Carefully opening, he could see what could only be a family tree, and a gigantic one at that. Boldly imprinted at the top were the words ' **The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter'** and next to them sat a coat of arms in a magnificent gold and red, a shield divided by a cross in four, with the top left corner holding a pentagram and the bottom right corner displaying a magnificent golden beast, a mixture between eagle and lion. Deciding to start at the top, he saw a man called _Ignotus Peverell_ at the very first layer of the family`s ancestry. Going through the layers upon layers of ancestors he saw just how old this family had to be, when his eyes fell upon a name that was specially marked, perhaps being important to the family history. That name, anointed with dates in the late 10th century, was Godric Gryffindor, who married a woman by the surname of Peverell. Harry could see, that a few generations later a man named Linfred, married to a woman of the surname Slytherin, had, for some reason, decided to take the name Potter.

With ever growing interest he continued down generation after generation, noting that only the firstborn son`s lineage was shown. When he came to the bottom of the page, his eyes nearly left their sockets:

 _Hardwin James "Harry" Potter_

 _* 31.7.1980_

 _Blood Status: Half-Blood_

 _Heir Apparent_

oooooooooo

"I'm telling you, Arthur, it was Harry Potter" the excited Obliviator from Magical Catastrophes by the name of Douglas Wilson excitedly informed the man in front of him in the cafeteria. The Obliviator had just returned from an exceedingly long and tiresome shift due to a little mishap involving a rampant hippogriff, a number of football fans and copious amounts of alcohol. "He looked just like the photos of his father I've seen," he continued, almost yelling at the kind-looking redhead with the receding hairline. Arthur looked at him questioningly. When nothing more came forth he asked, "Well, what`s all the ruckus about, then? I mean, I know he is famous but still…"

He could not say more because he was interrupted by Douglas, "He didn't know!"

"What do you mean 'he didn't know'?" Arthur enquired, now a little puzzled.

"He knew nothing about the wizarding world, I tried to thank him, but he had no idea why. Told something about his uncle, though. I had to obliviate him, you know the rules. Although I think I might have botched the charm…" here, the Obliviator trailed off, his more than 24 hours on duty finally catching up to him. "What are you doing here anyway, eh, Arthur? It`s Sunday!" he asked the man opposite to him.

"Ah, I had to get some stuff in Diagon Alley and the food here is just cheaper than at the cauldron. My youngest son starts Hogwarts this year, you know. Money…" Arthur gave the answer, a little glumly and in a shade of red worthy of the Weasleys. "Although now I might have a little letter to write, too…"

oooooooooo

 _Dear Professor McGonagall_

 _Through a colleague of mine, it recently came to my attention that young Mr. Harry Potter, who I believe is supposed to start school this year, might not be aware of his heritage and even the magical world at large. I know he is a child of wizarding parents, but in my humble opinion, I think his case should be handled along the same lines as the cases of muggleborn students. From what I could read between the lines about my colleague`s encounter, it might even be sensible to send more than one fully trained wizard._

 _My sincerest regards_

 _Arthur Septimus Weasley, Head of House Weasley_

 _PS: My colleague also thought he might have been afraid of his Uncle_

Arthur sighed. He had talked to Douglas Wilson a bit more and from what he could glean, Harry Potter had been afraid of this Uncle of his.

At that particular moment, he was really happy about not having McGonagall`s job. After sending out his missive with one of the ministry owls, he quickly made his way back to Diagon Alley to do his shopping.

oooooooooo

As he came home from his shopping, he was received by a magnificent barn owl he did not know with a letter tied to its leg. After removing the letter, he started reading.

 _Dear Mr. Weasley_

 _My sincerest gratitude for the warnings I received from you earlier. From what I remember about the family with which young Harry has been placed it is quite possible, maybe even likely for him to be unaware of our world. This possibility certainly warrants switching the usual procedure for delivery to a personal visit._

 _What actually has me worried however, are the implications of him being afraid of his uncle. From the things I saw of his relatives when Albus and I were there to deliver him, it might mean that Harry has been abused, a possibility I have to admit came to me quite a few times over the last ten years and which has me terrified that leaving Harry there might have been a monumental mistake. Therefore I agree to your advice of taking another person with me, even though it is highly irregular._

 _Given the possible implications of what we are discussing, it might be prudent to involve as few people in this as possible. I am quite sure Harry would not want too many people to know if he was indeed abused. Would you, in light of these possibilities, be willing to accompany me to deliver the news? The less people know the better._

 _My Sincerest Regards,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _PS: Arthur, you might want to tell your colleague to be less talkative, it wouldn't do for the likes of Lucius Malfoy to hear young Mr. Potter is completely unaware, despite Albus` wards._

oooooooooo

AN: Okay guys, so much for the first chapter. Later chapters will be longer, but I just wanted to put everything into the right place to start. Besides general outlines, I don't know where this is going, so I won't answer any questions about that. It will however (if I have the stamina) be a full epos, years 1-7.

As I am a first-time writer, reviews are highly appreciated, but please keep them constructive. Good suggestions are always welcome.


	2. Chapter 2: The Library and the Snake

AN: Fair warning, some possibly disturbing descriptions of child abuse coming up. If you have no inclination of reading that, stop at the triple line. Start reading again at the second one, it's safe from there. Well not exactly safe, but nothing just as disturbing. In the end there will be an AN summarising the plot points between those markers (won't be that much, just making clear how much Harry actually suffered).

 **Chapter 2: The Library and the Snake**

Harry was sitting in the library again. During the last few weeks, this had not been an unusual occurrence, not after finding this strange "other" part of the library, for lack of a better word. A few days ago, Harry had noticed something peculiar: He was the only one who could enter. The first time this thought came to mind had been a few days ago, when the librarian had been waiting to close up and had started looking for him, knowing Harry was still there. After minutes of fruitless search, looking through all the aisles, she had obviously conceded to defeat and assumed him to already be gone.

From then on, Harry had seen the most fascinating things to happen: Once, a few middle aged women had come to the shelf, obviously looking for a book. At the moment when Harry was sure he had lost his silent refuge, they had actually started taking very solid books from what seemed to, at least for Harry, be a see-through shape of nothing. This had happened time and again, and even the group of rowdy teenagers who had come by after school had not been able to breach his sanctuary, despite one of them being shoved into the shelf quite forcefully.

So now, Harry was sitting in what he started to think of as his "private library" and reading through a stack of books in front of him. Before, books had never been that special to him. Now though, they meant safety and a way out of the day-to-day Privet Drive. The current stack of books cycled around a topic that fascinated curious boy to no end, even if he still wasn't sure if this all was real or a really mean move of the Dursleys. This topic was something called "potions". He had started his reading with a book called _Potioneering for Beginners_ , his reason being a beginner's book could not be that hard. This particular book he had finished a week ago, followed by a few others on the same topic, the last of which he now put down.

While perusing for something else to read, he happened upon a section of the shelf holding a considerable number if rather thin, unnamed books. His interest piqued, he pulled out the first of the volumes and opened it. The bool turned out to be a diary. Now he was fighting an inner conflict: "Read it? But it's a diary, it's private… Yes, but it looks so interesting" he nearly heard his interest and conscience fighting inside his head. In the end, interest won and he started reading.

 _10th June, 1944_

 _Dear diary, remember I told you Father was going to free Europe? Well he did, at least he helped. I heard they were successful in France; they are now past the beaches but still… Yesterday, an officer from the military came, told us Dad did not make it and I am worried about Mum, she has not stopped crying since then. I think I haven't even quite realized it… He was always so strong, so wise. Why did he have to go, he is a Shoe-maker, for god's sake. Now Dad is gone and I wonder if Mum will have to continue working after the war to support us. I'm not sure, Diary, if I shouldn't be more stricken, like Mom. Did I not love him? I know you can't answer, but this feels good anyway_

 _13th of June, 1944_

 _…_

Harry kept reading, captivated by the unknown writer's feelings and words. After several pages he stumbled upon something that made the insides of his mind tingle, if something like that is even possible: "Wizarding World". It was an entry from 20th June, written in a script far less tidy than everything else in the journal so far. Apparently, the writer had been visited by a man of the name Slughorn. "What a most… unfortunate name" Harry thought to himself. This man had told him about something called the wizarding world, about people called muggles and, most importantly witches and wizards. More specifically, muggleborn witches and wizards, from non-magic parents and the accidental magic young witches and wizards would experience in moments of stress.

"Magic…" Harry now said to himself, immediately flinching under the voice of Uncle Vernon sounding "There is no such thing as magic!" inside his mind, coming alongside countless memories of being called "Freak". Dropping the book, Harry ran out of the library, garnering a nasty glare from the librarian, and out to the street. "There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing as magic…" he kept repeating to himself, knowing, in the deep recesses of his mind that this was wrong, yet still somehow hoping it to be true. If only for his Uncle to be, well not happy, Vernon was never happy, but maybe not irate and therefore a danger to Harry.

Harry was sitting in the car, on the way to the zoo. Usually he did not like Dudley's birthday at all and for most of it, this one was no difference. It had started with a rude awakening, a rude breakfast and a rude talking-to from Uncle Vernon, about not doing anything "freakish". Still, he was sitting in the car on the way to the zoo. "Could be worse, I could be stuck with Mrs. Figg and her cats." He thought to himself shuddering at the memorable mixture of smells made by cabbage and cats.

It had been a long time that Harry had not been to "his library" and even though it made him miserable, he really had no inclination to go back and possibly ire his Uncle. The words he had read however stuck around in his mind. These words about potions, about a world of ma…

"Woah, dangerous territory, stop right there" Harry managed to interrupt himself. "Just in time, do not even think the m-word".

They had been in the zoo for quite some time now, and Harry was as happy as he could get being with the Dursleys. He had even scored an ice-cream, because it had not been large enough for Dudley, who insisted on a new portion to be delivered, leaving the started cup to Harry.

Somehow this was all a little too good. It was early afternoon now and the Dursleys, plus Harry and Dudley's best friend and consort in "Harry-hunting" Piers were walking toward the reptile house. Harry walked around, looking at the various kinds of snakes on display throughout the room. He stopped at one, easily the largest snake in the whole exhibit. But that was not what drew Harry to its terrarium. To Harry, the snake somehow looked sad, especially after Vernon had started knocking on the glass to "motivate the snake to do something. When this did not work, Dudley declared the snake to be "boring" and moved on.

At this moment, Harry felt a strange kinship with the snake. Being locked up, someone knocking on the door for their own amusement, being seen as far less than human… he could relate it that.

These rather depressing thoughts were interrupted b something rather unusual. Some time after Dudley had left, obviously having found something more interesting, the snake lifted and winked…

"Woah, I must be really tired…" Harry thought.

Yet, the snake winked again and now started speaking: "Zzzisssss your fffamilly? My condolecessssss…"

Still a little shocked Harry started to answer: "Hello… do you understand me?" The snake _nodded_ , as far as that was possible. "You get used to it, at least a little. How come I understand you?"

"Well you're a ssssspeaker, of coursssse" came the rather puzzling answer. Upon seeing the puzzled expression on the human's face the snake snickered in a rather disturbing way. "Magic!"

"There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing as magic! There's no such thing…"

"Ssstop it rrright there, of course there issss" the snake hissed its answer, seemingly getting a little agitated. "You're a ssspeaker, why don't you know about your sssskilsss?"

Any further conversation was halted, however, by Dudley screaming for his parents to look and then pressing his face at the glass of the snake's terrarium, shoving Harry out of the way. As he continued pounding at the glass something "freakish" happened: From one second to the other the glass just vanished and Dudley fell into the aquarium, right next to the snake. Said snake, not particularly on good terms with the fat human decided to scare him a little. It slithered around Dudley's large frame a little, watching in amusement as the human paled and screamed, before making its exit from the reptile house with a last "thhhhank you!" towards the much nicer human, all the while eliciting screams from the bystanders.

"You damn, ruddy, worth for nothing freak!"

Harry was being torn out of the car by his hair by his livid Uncle for his supposed transgressions. "I told you to do nothing freakish, you worthless piece of shit! After all our generosity, you reward us with using your abnormality to attack Dudley!"

The young, small boy was scared to death. He already had a bruise on his chest from a fist Uncle Vernon had rammed into him on the parking lot of the zoo, when no one had been looking. Now he was being torn inside the living room of Privet Drive 4.

"But Uncle Vernon, I didn't…"

"SO YOU'RE TALKING BACK AND LYING NOW TOO! Worthless freak, I'll show you. Get off your shirt!"

"But…"

"NOW! Don't make it worse for yourself, boy!" And with that Uncle Vernon started taking off his belt while Harry wordlessly and with a face pale from absolute terror started to take off his shirt.

"YOU" **CRACK** "ARE" **CRACK** "TO" **CRACK** "BEHAVE" **CRACK** "LIKE A" **CRACK** "NORMAL" **CRACK** "DECENT" **CRACK** "HUMAN" **CRACK** "BEING" Each word was interspersed by the crack of the belt, Harry screaming in pain as the buckle hit the older wounds on his back. When the belt did not sate Uncle Vernon's growing hunger for violence anymore he switched to fists hitting the boy in the ribs, in the face. Having screamed in pain at the buckle Harry now just stood there, silent tears running down his face, until his legs gave out below him and he fell, hitting his head on a chair and receiving a kick in the rib for good measure.

Then, everything turned black around Harry.

Velvety blackness surrounded Harry as he awoke. Drawing his first breath after waking up, he felt intense pain, reminding him about the events that had transpired… "Well, when exactly?" he asked himself. Wincing a little from the intense pain of it, Harry started to sit up. He was in his cupboard under the stairs, a spider staring at him from its web in the far away corner. Or at least it felt like the spider was staring him, Harry was not really sure spiders could actually stare.

Crawling towards the door, Harry made inventory of his injuries: His bare back was raw from the whipping with the belt he felt at least a few broken and cracked ribs and found he could not really open his left eye.

"No broken limbs must've passed out in time" he thought with a disturbing amount of gratitude in his mind's voice, knowing full well his Uncle did not enjoy punishing him when he was unconscious. He also knew that, when Uncle Vernon found him conscious, he would finish what he had started. With a sudden stroke of luck he realized the padlock on his cupboard to be unlocked. "Seems they thought I would be unconscious much longer." Scared though he was, this was an opportunity he was unable to let pass. He sifted through his cupboard for the few things he wanted to take with him, namely the alarm clock he had repaired (it showed 3am), the tape he used to tape together his glasses and a plastic bag filled with the hand-me-downs from Dudley. It was not that he liked them, but that he needed these things.

Silently crawling back to the door of the cupboard, he thought about where to go. He really had no idea, as the place where a person felt safest, his home was the place most dangerous to him right now.

"I need somewhere I'll be safe, a sanctuary, somewhere only I can enter…" And with that thought it hit him. "The library, I'll get to the library!" Having settled his destination, Harry crept out under the stairs and silently made his way towards the door, all the while his heart thumped in his chest out of fear of being found. Every noise a danger, Harry flinched in fear even at the slight sound of him opening the door to the front lawn. After having made his way out of the house and into the dark night, Harry started to move faster, at least until he tripped over something and fell down, face first onto the grass. Harry panicked in fear of being caught, and unbeknownst to him a disturbing aura started to gather around him.

"Calllmmmm downnn, Sssspeaker!" the snake from the zoo told him in an, at least for a snake, surprisingly calm tone. Harry started to calm down, and with his panic receding so did the aura around him. "Everything's okay, you just fell over the snake… Wait, what is it doing in Little Whinging?" he asked inside his head. As if reading his mind, the snake said: "You fffreed me, I wasss determined to reccciprocate! The fat human did a rrreal number on you, did he nnnot? Should I go in and strangle him real quick?"

"What, no! I don't want you to kill him. He took me in, was always generous to me…"

"He mosssst certainly wassssn't! The snake interrupted him mid-sentence. "Ssstill, it isss not the time for thisss discussion. I suggesssst we movvvve. Where to, young Sssspeaker?"

"Local library, there's a room there only I can enter. By the way, what is your name?"

"How fffflattering of you to ask. I am Ouroborosss. Do not bother telling me yours, everybody knows you, Harry Potter…"

And with this rather cryptic statement they started their way towards the library building.

The bright morning sun shone through the window of the master bedroom at Number 4 Privet Drive and woke up Petunia Dursley neè Evans. When she opened her eyes something immediately felt off to her. Getting up on her elbows she looked around the room and her eyes landed on the man lying in bed with her, still snoring a little after overexerting himself over punching some sense into her ungrateful good-for-nothing nephew, the son of her equally worthless and freaky sister and that _Potter_ bastard.

With those thoughts she started to get up, when she finally realized what had been bothering her all along: it was completely and utterly silent, she did not hear the silent yet distinct clanking of the boy making breakfast. "Maybe he needs a little more of the belt to get the message, ungrateful little brat."

More thoughts like this in her mind, Petunia Dursley made her way down the stairs, out to give the boy a rude awakening. While she had never hit him, she was quite adept at angry tirades and fully intended for Vernon to deepen the message to the boy from the day before later. What greeted her in the cupboard under the stairs however was not a sleeping boy, nor was it an alert yet defiant boy; there was just no boy at all.

"VERNON, COME DOWN HERE!" She screamed for her husband.

"The ungrateful little brat is gone!" Petunia told him a few minutes later, after Vernon Dursley had come down the stairs, panting from moving his massive form faster than usual and still clad in his pyjamas.

"Well then who the damn hell is gonna make breakfast now?" was the only answer she received.

Across town Harry Potter awoke to a throbbing pain in his chest and his head.

Panic filled him and he opened his eyes, taking in the unexpected environment. He was sitting in a stuffed armchair inside his "private library". With this image, the admittedly hazy memories of the last night returned to him.

He and Ouroboros had made their way towards the library building and somehow Ouroboros had managed to open a window after slithering inside through some vents, letting Harry inside. It had all been done rather slowly because every time Harry tried to take a deep breath he had winced in pain instead, from his broken ribs.

He was feeling a bit better now, but still far from healthy or well.

At that moment, the snake he had come with slithered back from between two aisles with surprising enthusiasm.

"Ssspeaker, I havvve found sssomething mossst interesssting! Follow me, if you would." Intrigued, but still very much in pain, Harry got up slowly and started to follow the excited snake who led him through the aisles to a part of the library Harry had not had the time to look at so far. "Hmmm, this 'room' is way larger than it should be, larger than the rest of the library at least…" Harry was woken from these musings as Ouroboros stopped in front of what seemed, at least to Harry, be an ordinary piece of dark-panelled wall.

"I noticcced a draft right there, Ssspeaker, help me look for a door." He instructed Harry, who immediately started looking. After several minutes of searching, he hit a little square pressure plate in the wall and in front of him opened a door to a rather dusty corridor. Fascinated by this new discovery in his refuge, Harry started exploring. He found a little bedroom with a dusty queen-sized bed, a bathroom, even a little kitchen, although none of the appliances seemed used in a long while. What was most interesting to him though, was a room he recognized from a description in a book he had read: a potions lab, complete with a small storage cupboard filled with labelled potions. Taking one he recognized as a healing potion he went to the bedroom and downed it in one gulp. Then, exhaustion claimed him again.

The nice human had been sleeping for most of the _bright-warm-light-outside_ and it was now dark when Ouroboros decided some nourishment was in order, both for him and the _Speaker_. After coming to this decision, the large python slithered away from the foot of the bed where he had been guarding the human, through the corridor and out of the _magical-library-room_. Slithering out of a window, his hunter's instincts immediately kicked in and he smelled a suitable meal for both him and the human on the wind.

"Too eassssyyy" he thought as he closed in on the rabbit.

Harry awoke to two rather different sensations: The first of them rather surprising, yet very welcome; he felt loads better. The second one was much less surprising, considering the time he had slept both in the chair and in bed; he needed to pee.

Stepping into the bathroom, he was shocked at the image that awaited him in the mirror: While he had healed a lot over the night, the entire left side of his face was still covered in an enormous bruise, as were parts of his torso. He had blood all over him and his glasses were splintered and sat on his nose rather crookedly.

After relieving himself he took to the shower, where he found rather old-looking soap and started washing away the blood and grime. He winced silently as the hot water and the soap hit the streaks left behind by the belt on his back, but after the deed was done he again felt loads better.

Leaving the bathroom behind he almost stumbled over Ouroboros again, who lay curled up on the floor in front of the bathroom door, a small white rabbit clutched in his fangs. "Good morning, Ssspeaker, I sssee you feel better. I brought nourissshment for you." He said and dumped the dead animal on the floor in front of Harry.

"Well, thanks, I guess…" The rather fazed recipient of the gift answered, picking up the rabbit and starting to move towards the kitchen. "Guess I'll have to figure out how to make this edible now."

Harry sat at the kitchen table, finishing his rather bleak meal of cooked rabbit. As it turned out, the kitchen was fully equipped, including cutlery fit to prepare the rabbit at least somewhat haphazardly so as not to have to eat fur together with the meat.

"Hey, Ouroboros, wanna explore this place a little more?" Harry asked the snake, who was comfortably laying one of the other three chairs, still digesting its own rabbit. "No thanksss, Ssspeaker, you go ahead. I'll jussst keep lying around. Would you kindly make the room a little warmer though, I am cold-blooded after all…" he said with a small, hissy chuckle.

After turning up the heating, Harry left the room and set to explore his secret sanctuary. Giving the bathroom a second look, but not finding anything really interesting, he moved on to the bedroom. Here, in one of the side-tables he found another one of the diaries he had so interestedly read before. Setting down on the bed, he started reading.

 _30th November, 1975_

 _Dear diary,_

 _It has been decades since I last wrote an entry, but I feel now it is needed. A new Dark Lord has risen and the Ministry seems unable to stop him. Since writing a diary has served me well when the last one was around, even though I didn't know it then, I figured I'd start again._

 _He-who-must-not-be-named is continuing to grow in power and I fear for my life, for I am sure that at this point, not even Dumbledore can still stop him. And as a "Mudblood" I will be high on his hit-list._

 _Therefore I have decided to go into hiding. I packed up all my books and will now look for a place to lay low for the time being._

A few entries followed this; detailing the unnamed writer's journey through England fleeing from people he called "Death-Eaters". They were succeeded by another entry that Harry decided to read in the full.

 _25th of December 1975_

 _Dear diary_

 _I finally found a place where I think I'll be safe. It's a library in a so utterly magicless neighbourhood in Surrey that those Eaters will never look for me here. I charmed one of the book shelves with muggle repelling charms and made it to only let magic people through. Now the muggles will see and even use a perfectly solid shelf, while magical people will have access to a secret room I enlarged using an undetectable extension charm. I even started to build a little flat for me, hidden behind a false panel just like in Hogwarts._

Getting a little bored by now, Harry leafed through the book until he reached the very last pages that still had writing on them.

 _16th November 1980_

 _Dear diary,_

 _I think I've been made. After my supply and book run yesterday (I picked up the revised Potter book), I saw people in cloaks patrolling around. Maybe going to Diagon Alley was a bad idea after all…_

 _Still, now I'll have to move. I'll really miss this place._

 _The diary will remain here, so should I not make it, someone might someday find out about what happened to me, tell my family about it, my name is Kenneth Jones. Should I survive I am going to return here, if not, well… l made it five years, that's more than most get when He's after them…_

The following pages were all blank and it was quite clear to Harry that the mystery writer he now knew to be named Kenneth Jones was dead, killed by whoever this "He" might be and a silent, singletear escaped Harry's eye.

AN: In the rather graphic scene, Harry was beaten by Vernon for his outburst of accidental magic. After waking up in his cupboard, he takes all his belongings and, fearing for his safety, leaves the house, only to stumble over the snake, who introduces himself as Ouroboros.

Do not expect this schedule to continue, the words are just flowing out of my hands at the moment, no idea if this will continue.

Please leave a review those are always appreciated and very helpful. Plus, they're a great motivation. I am especially interested in what you think about the library's origin story.


	3. Chapter 3: Visitors

**Chapter 3: Visitors**

"But Daaaaad, why did I have to come?"

Daphne and Xander Greengrass were sitting in the kitchen of a small house on Privet Drive. They were currently waiting for the rest of the household to come down for breakfast.

"Because, princess, the Auror corps stationed me here to monitor everything after that incident with the knight bus. Apparently, there's some VIP living in…"

"But why did **I** have to come?" The girl interrupted her father. She had been put out with their current accommodations for nearly the whole week they had already been there, her father having taken over another auror's observation post. "Astoria and I could have just stayed at the manor, worked on our reading, fly a little. It's so boring here, everything is full of muggles and we don't know any other kids." Daphne continued with a pout that had her father chuckle inwardly.

"Well, first of all, don't interrupt me! Your mother wanted to come, and we couldn't just leave you home alone, now, could we. And no, the house-elves are no sufficient supervision for weeks on end. And I also wanted to spend some time with my _lovely_ little daughter before she goes off to Hogwarts. Sadly, I haven't seen her these last few days…" he finished with a small grin and quite a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

"And if you want to meet other kids, you'll have to start leaving the house. Or you could go to the library, it could benefit you to get to know a little more about muggles, you know. They are often blatantly ignorant to all things magic, but also quite ingenious at times."

All further conversation was cut off by a little, blonde ball of energy noisily making her way down the stairs, all the while screaming: "GOOD MORNING DAD, GOOD MORNING DAPHNE!" Daphne's little sister Astoria had obviously decided to come down for breakfast. Following her down the stairs was their mother, Eleanor Greengrass. The Greengrass women all shared a few things in appearance: First of all, the bright blonde, nearly white hair was a dead giveaway of their familial ties. Second of all, their faces all shared a certain quality, although no one could ever really say what it was. Besides this "certain quality" the faces of Daphne on one side and Astoria and their mother on the other side looked quite different. While Astoria had inherited her mother's round, gentle face, cute nose and brown eyes, her sister Daphne had taken more to her father's slightly angular, yet still pretty looks, including his normal sized but very pointed nose and the steel-blue eyes.

Sitting down, the two newcomers warily eyed those already seated, clearly seeing signs of the argument they had interrupted. Reading the slight discomfort in his wife and younger daughter's posture, Xander said: "We just had a little disagreement about our current living situation." Daphne managed to hide her snort behind a cough, knowing full well how much her mother hated that particular exclamation of displeasure. To further mask it, she started talking: "I've decided to look at the library around here. Tori, you wanna come?" she asked her younger sister, absolutely expecting the answer she got: "Nah, just dusty old books. I'm gonna play with Leo!" Leo the family cat had thankfully been allowed to come with them, otherwise their temporary exile in the muggle world would have been even worse.

With their plans made, the family started breakfast with Xander resuming the tradition of reading from the _Daily Prophet_ : "Gringotts. With notice of four days, the goblins of Gringotts have declared new security measures, effective from 1st July. These new measures include…"

But Daphne, considering she really did not care about security measures in Gringotts, toned him out. Instead, she started day-dreaming about something she had wanted with an increasing abandon over the last few months: A new friend, preferably someone without the old preconceptions about hr "Slytherin-Family", who was not out for money or connections. She had noticed these things happening the first time when she was around eight; the children from the Slytherin-families, or rather their parents, were always hell bent on becoming friends with her, oldest child of one of the Sacred 28. The children from other families on the other hand, had always been a little wary of her. This all annoyed her not only a little.

"...Hogwarts acceptance letters are to be sent out shortly." This sentence woke her up from her day-dreaming as her father read it from the paper. "So it is time?" she asked her father to which he just nodded his head and shrugged his right shoulder, as if saying "seems so". This finally got her excited. This fall she would finally go to Hogwarts, she would finally get her own wand and learn all the cool spells there were, not just from books but from actual teachers. And she would be allowed to actually do the spells, so no more having to nick her mother's wand if she wanted to turn the colour of Leo's whiskers or something like that.

But despite all her excitement, there was also something that frightened her about Hogwarts: Slytherin House. She was pretty sure she would be a snake, as her family had been for generations. Still, this did not mean she liked being put into housing with a number of future dark wizards, especially considering her father's position as an Auror, a hunter of dark wizards and other criminal elements.

With these conflicting emotions in her mind, she finished her breakfast and started on her way towards the library.

Harry woke up to a silent hissing next to his bed, a sound which before the last three days would have had him on the next high object he could reach. Now, however the sound meant breakfast. Over the passing of the days since the 24th Harry and Ouroboros had come to an arrangement for their daily schedule. In the morning the snake would deliver a rabbit for Harry to prepare as food for the day with Ouroboros curled up close to the stove, thoroughly enjoying the warmth radiating when Harry was cooking. They would then start to clean their little "flat" bit by bit, starting in the kitchen on the first day and quickly continuing to bedroom, bathroom and now, on the fourth day the lab.

This particular room fascinated Harry immensely. He still hadn't entered it except from the incident with the heling potion. But now it was time to do so, and he was positively giddy with excitement. As far as someone with healing broken ribs could be considered giddy anyway. In keeping with their plan, the two of them moved to the lab after Harry's breakfast (the snake, as it turned out, would only eat again in about a week). The lab was as dusted over as the rest of the hideaway had been before they had cleaned it, so Harry picked up the rather inadequate cleaning supplies he had found and started cleaning while the Ouroboros lay curled up on the ground, napping on and off, sometimes hissing little encouragements.

His cleaning took until nearly noon and Harry decided to take another bite to eat from the still rather bland cooked rabbit. Afterwards he moved towards the library and started reading a randomly picked book, this particular day it was something called _Quidditch through the Ages_.

"Whatever the hell Quidditch might be…" he mused and started reading.

Daphne reached the library around mid-morning. She had started off early, but had been side-tracked more times than she could count. "Dad was right," she thought" they really do have fascinating ideas." She pretty much behaved like the excited child she was, running after a car and a bike, watching in awe as a muggle with a lawnmower made his way through a front lawn, beaming with glee as she made her way through a muggle supermarket, her pockets stuffed with muggle candy she paid with the muggle money her father had given to her "in case of emergency".

Finally stepping through the door of the library, she was shocked at how different it looked than the one she had known all her life in Greengrass-Manor. The books in here were neither dusty nor very old. Most of them looked admittedly shabby, but still a little shiny and way less heavy than some of the thick tomes in her family's library. Her curiosity piqued, she started rifling through the stacks for adolescents. After a little looking around, she just picked one randomly. What she ended up with was a book named _The Never-ending Story_ , featuring a little boy and an empress, a dragon and the possibility of the world ending. It was a story with many things that reminded her of the wizarding world, but still so distinctly different; Daphne loved it.

"As if dragons could talk…" she mumbled after putting the book away, having grown tired of it. After several hours of reading it was now mid-afternoon and she decided to have another look around the library before making her way back to her family's temporary home for supper. She had just reached a distant and quiet corner of the library with a few chairs in between to bookshelves, when something struck her as odd: One of the shelves seemed a bit translucent almost like mist.

"I wonder if…" she mumbled, before she extended her arm and touched… nothing. The shelf was not only translucent, but somehow she could go through it as well. "Well now I'm interested" she thought and stepped through.

Behind the "shelf" was another part of the library, looking distinctly more similar to the library in Greengrass-Manor than the rest of it. She could make out potions books, healing almanacs, history books and charms works, all of them curiously interspersed with muggle books Daphne was sure were missing from the muggle section of the library. Passing a herbology section she saw a rare book on Scandinavian plants her mother had been searching for years. Deciding she wanted to at least take a look at it, she took the old tome from the shelf and started looking a place to sit down.

She found a group of armchairs near the back of the wizarding section, one of them facing away from her. Making her way around the chairs, she let the book fall down and out of her mouth came a short shriek.

She was not as alone as she had thought, because that armchair was taken.

Harry awoke from a fitful sleep to a thud and a shriek. Panic rising in him he opened his eyes and dove behind the chair, awaiting a blow to come. It never came.

Slowly, he looked over the armrest of the armchair and his eyes took in a young girl about his age. She was rather petite, with bright blonde hair and steel-blue eyes. Her angular face showed shock, surprise and a few other emotions he could not quite make out.

After a few moments she seemed to be gathering her wits about herself and her rigid posture loosened. At just that point Ouroboros silently slithered close behind the girl and suddenly, without any warning, coiled around her small frame from behind. Another shriek exited her mouth as she was slowly suffocated.

"Ouroboros, release her!" Harry immediately ordered the snake, worried about how much this small body could take. "Ssspeaker, are you sssure? Ssshe could be dangerousss."

"Yes Ouroboros, now."

Still hissing a little in defiance, the snake loosened its grip on the girl and let her free, still remaining alert to anything she could try to hurt who he started to feel of as his human.

The young girl now had a gobsmacked expression on her pretty face, clearly a little overwhelmed with what was happening around her. "You're a parselmouth." She more told him than asked.

"I'm a what?"

"A parselmouth, you can talk to snakes." She started getting excited. This boy somehow fascinated her somehow, although she really was not sure if she wanted to know where these bruises came from.

"Oh, is that what it is called? Well, I guess I am…" He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm Harry, by the way."

"Daphne, nice to meet you."

"You, too."

"Sooooo…" A thousand questions seemed to be in her mind, each of them clearly readable on her face: "Who gave you those bruises, how come you sleep in here, what's with the snake, what about this place …" But she only let herself utter one thing, seeming to know he would not react well to being questioned right now: "Sorry I startled you there. I was a little surprised to find you here. I know this room is only accessible to magic folks. Didn't know about anyone else living here…" She trailed off, her face getting a little red, although Harry had no Idea why exactly.

"Well, I came here kind of recently, you know. Didn't go out very much up 'til now. Actually, I have not left this library for days…" Now it was his turn to trail off. Did he really want her to know that much about him? He had no idea about her after all. But still, he had a certain feeling about her, telling him she could be trusted. And with years of gouging the Dursleys' mood he had developed rather acute senses of mood and personality. "I won't tell her everything, just that I ran away and that I can't go out. And I'll show her around. But not more, at least for now." He decided in the debate with himself.

"Daphne, you can't tell anyone I'm here. I ran away from somewhere and don't want to be fou…"

"I won't tell anyone you're here, I swear. Did you get those bruises there?" She immediately regretted her insensitive question, as much was clear from her expression when taking in his face closing off immediately. "I'm sorry you don't have to answer, of course." She spoke very quickly now and adopted a soothing tone. "Would you show me around this library?"

At this question, Harry's face lit up a little under the still prominent bruises.

"Oh, it's way more than just a library!" Now a little smirk graced his features.

Professor McGonagall was pacing around in her office at Hogwarts. She was waiting for a very important floo-call from Arthur Weasley regarding their planned excursion to Little Whinging that was to take place later the same day. It was now early July and therefore time to get the Hogwarts acceptance letters to the muggleborn and muggleraised magical children to give them enough time to come to grips with their gift before the dead-line for replies on the 31st.

All of a sudden, a chime went off and the flames in her fireplace became a brilliant green, showing the face of Arthur Weasley.

"Oh, hello Arthur, I've been waiting for your call."

"Hello Minerva, yes even in school I wasn't the most punctual one, wasn't I. You do remember, don't you?" He quipped, chuckling at the nervousness clearly showing on the usually stoic professor's face.

"Yes, Arthur I do remember. Now let us get to business. When will you be able to go to Surrey?"

"Well, Molly is taking the kids out this afternoon, and I'll make a half day at the office. Does around three sound okay to you?" He spoke, still sounding a little amused to the old professor. Now suddenly his tone changed to dead serious, something rarely seen or rather heard in him: "Minerva, are you alright? You seem to be quite agitated about this visit, is there more to it than I know?"

Now this was a tough question, because not even Minerva McGonagall could answer it, not even when she asked it herself. Remembering the Dursleys from the time she had watched them in her animagus form, she had a bad feeling about what she would find. Yet, Albus had assured her everything was going fine; the wards were fine so Harry was safe. Still, she was worried there was a danger not from the outside, but from the inside of these wards. Resolving herself to speak again she said: "I am just not quite sure what we will find there. I've watched these people for quite some time ten years ago. I know Albus says Harry is fine, but I just don't know if he is looking at the right danger."

"Hmm. I guess we can only find out about it this afternoon. But I am now more sure than ever that going together and not alone is a good idea" Came Arthur's solemn reply.

"Yes, I suppose that is true. I won't stop worrying though until we see him well and here in Hogwarts. Shall I pick you up at the Ministry at three then?"

"That would be acceptable. I will see you then, Minerva" Arthur finished and his head vanished from the fire while Professor McGonagall resumed her pacing, again asking herself if she had been too easily mollified by Albus' words.

At the same time in Surrey, Harry and Daphne were both sitting in the armchairs in the magical library; Ouroboros curled up in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth. Over the last few days, Daphne had helped Harry make the place a little more liveable, getting him some more food, a few matches to light the fireplace and even some necessities for everyday life. She still did not know who he was running from and she had no intention to ask. In return, Harry had told her a bit about the place he had found by such a lucky accident. He had told her about the journal of Kenneth Jones, as well as about his probable fate. Now he was telling her about the book he had found on his family's history.

"You know, it's about my family I think. It has my name in it at least. It's called _The_ _Potter Legacy_ and really…" He had no opportunity to say anymore as he was interrupted most loudly by Daphne as he said this: "By Merlin's underpants, you're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed and taking in his confused expression she continued: "The-boy-who-lived? You survived Vou-know-who? Although I don't see your scar anywhere under that bruise…" She ended before she could say more, a little shaken by her own outburst and worried of making him close off to her again. She did not know him that well, but she really liked him, he seemed so unburdened by prejudice. And, just as important, she could tell he liked her to.

"I have literally no idea what you're talking about" he answered her, interrupting her thoughts on the matter. This baffled Daphne all the more. Knowing it was there she could now see the legendary lightning scar under the bruises on his face, so he clearly was **the** Harry Potter and he did not know anything about the-boy-who lived? This was nearly incomprehensible to her and she really didn't feel up to telling him about how his parents had been murdered. She also knew he deserved to know. "Here goes nothing" she thought, steeling herself for what would clearly be a difficult talk.

"Harry, do you know about He-who must not-be-named?" She asked with quite some trepidation. She very much wanted to not have to tell him about the Dark Lord.

"You mean Voldemort?" Daphne flinched at the name but quickly collected herself at least she would not have to tell about him.

"I'll tell you the story as my mother told it to me, okay?" Upon his silent, tense nod, Daphne took a calming breath and started to talk.

"Many years ago, he-who-must-not-be-named was very powerful. He and his followers waged war on the wizarding world, determined to topple the government and then subjugate the muggles. I don't really know why, though" she answered his questioning glance. "Anyway, dad calls those "the dark times", rarely talks about it. He was neutral during the war, I think it was to protect mom and later me and my sister. He told me it was hard to trust people, he would not risk anything to openly oppose him" she said, suddenly worried Harry would hold her father's inaction against her, considering what the war had taken from him.

"With the war having raged more than a decade, no one really had any hope left. But this is where you come into play; mom told me this story the first when I was five years old: Apparently, your parents had defied you-know-who one too many times, so he came after them and killed them. And that's when the miracle happened; for some reason, no one really knows why, He tried to kill you too, but his curse rebounded and killed him instead…" Daphne finished, absolute silence claiming the room for a while. "Now every child in our world knows your name, because you're Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived…" again becoming silent, Daphne averted her eyes from Harry's face, she could not bear the feeling of watching the anguish on his face as she finished the story. When she raised her eyes again to look at him again, his expression had changed dramatically: instead of silent anguish, his face now showed rage, unrestrained burning rage.

"THEY TOLD ME IT WAS A CAR ACCIDENT! MY PARENTS WERE MURDERED BY A MADMAN AND THEY TOLD ME IT WAS A CAR ACCIDENT" he raged and Daphne could see magic flaring up around him. Fearing for an outburst of accidental magic she did something she had not had the bravery to do before: She went over to him and hugged him tightly.

As Daphne grabbed him, Harry immediately went rigid, so she started stroking his back and whispering to him: "Shhh, it's okay you're safe, I'm here for you…" and other such words, all in a soothing tone. At some point the snake she now knew as Ouroboros also came over and started to coil his way up around Harry and, by extension, Daphne.

After a few minutes in this rather unusual group hug Harry started to let some of the tension flow out of him and started to hug her back. Another couple minutes later she noticed her shoulder getting wet and realized Harry was now holding onto her for dear life, crying about who knew how many worries. Still hugging him tightly and after the snake had slithered down to the ground, she maneuvered them both over to the largest armchair, which could easily accommodate the both of them, and sat down on it, with Harry still hanging on to her tightly. Many minutes later, he loosened his grip on her and Daphne realized he had fallen asleep. Only a few more seconds passed until the emotional exhaustion got to her, too, and she followed him into Morpheus' waiting arms.

It was five minutes to three when Minerva McGonagall exited the floo in the Ministry of Magic, taking in the atrium and the fountain she so despised.

"I've met centaurs, and they definitely do not look at wizards like this, neither do goblins." She scoffed internally while waiting for Arthur Weasley to appear. This event she had been waiting for happened exactly 15 minutes later, which made the stern transfiguration mistress give the man walking towards her in an idle pace a menacing glare.

"Hello, Minerva. I thought we had cleared this thing about me and punctuality?" he greeted her, only to receive another pointed look. "I'm sorry; there was an incident with a number of cars charmed to go berserk when someone in the vicinity broke any rules of traffic. We have five muggles in St. Mungo's right now, and a whole squad of obliviators on the ground to clear it up, even the aurors got involved, it's a right mess, that is."

This somewhat soothed Minerva, knowing how serious he took his work even his coming ten minutes late was a miracle. "No need to apologize Arthur, I know you take you job seriously. And thank you for trying to cheer me up, although that would be quite impossible at this point. Come on then, take my arm, I believe you haven't been to the Dursleys'?" After both of them had transfigured their clothes to some nice muggle attire, Arthur took Minerva's arm and with a spin and a pop they disapparated to a silent spot near Privet Drive.

With a pop they appeared in the quiet back-alley behind a supermarket, directly next to a dumpster containing still packed food that had crossed its best before. Making their way out of the alley, they took in their surroundings, the neat lawns, tidy streets and almost depressingly boring, uniformal houses. A few minutes later, they reached the front lawn of Privet Drive Number Four, which was unusually dry and brown, while the flowerbeds seemed to be flowing over with weeds, as if no one had taken the time to take care of either recently.

Stepping up to the front-door, Minerva activated the door-bell while Arthur watched intently, obviously quite fascinated. Hearing silent cursing from behind the door, they both adapted their work personas of stern professor and ministry official, respectively. The door opened and a rather horsish looking woman Minerva recognized as Petunia Dursley, sister of Lily Potter, appeared in front of them.

"What do you want, showing up here unannounced?" She asked in a rather rude tone.

In her most level voice, Minerva started to answer: "My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, I am a teacher at…" but was immediately interrupted by Petunia, who had now adopted a sneer as if she was faced with something intensely repugnant.

"Oh, I know who you are _Professor_ " the last word dripped in venom. "You teach at that school for freaks. You here for the brat?"

"Yes, we are. Let me introduce myself, I am Arthur Weasley, an official from the Ministry of Mag…"

"Don't say this word here! Although I really do _hate_ to disappoint you" here her tone said differently "the boy is not here. He left some time ago, after he was punished for one of his bouts of freakishness." She now looked at the witch and the wizard in front of her with loathing, as well as some beginning trepidation.

"Might I ask, what this "punishment", after which Mr. Potter left, entailed?" Professor McGonagall, because it was now her, and not Minerva, asked, trying hard to stay calm while she remembered the countless times she had worried about something like this.

"My husband gave him the belt, and quite rightly so, and then the fists. All of it very much deserved, I assure you. He passed out, so my son put him in his cupboard, he was in the way on the floor." At that point both Professor McGonagall and Mr. Weasley had problems refraining from hexing the horrible person in front of them. Working hard to keep her anger in check and out of her voice McGonagall now asked the woman: "And might that have been?"

"Must have been some two weeks now, ungrateful brat…"

"So you're telling me, a child left, your sister's son, no less, in your care has been missing for two weeks now, probably hurt, and you did not bother to look for him, to file a report with the police?" Cold fury started showing on her face and in her voice, prompting Arthur to take over.

"We will be back. Should you be hiding Mr. Potter from the authorities, be prepared to face severe consequences. Furthermore, with what I heard from you now, be prepared to receive a visit from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Magical Child Protective Services in the near future. I hereby declare an investigation on you, everything you say from now on can and will be used against you in a court of law." He played out these formalities almost without emotion, internally seething and grieving for the boy. Without another word they turned away, leaving behind a stunned and furious Petunia.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Arthur turned towards Minerva and, with a completely stunned look on his face, watched a single tear streak down her cheek. "Arthur, I sentenced him to that… I was there when Albus left him here. I should have been more insistent. I never should have…" she trailed off, no words able to express the dread she now felt, the sorrow and regret.

Now, pure fear enveloped her mind as another possible outcome of this turn of events became clear to her. In a little voice much more fitting to a frightened little girl than to the rigid Professor who was now using it she spoke: "Arthur, what if… What if he's…" She could not bring herself to finish the sentence.

"Calm down, Minerva." Arthur now spoke to her in as calming a voice as he could manage. "I happen to know there's an auror posted in the area after that breach of secrecy with the knight bus. We'll ask if they've seen anything."

AN: Wow, this was not easy to write, at least emotionally, yet the words just kept coming. Hope you all enjoy, and please do leave a review.

alexandertheII


	4. Chapter 4: Feeling in the Right

**Chapter 4: Feeling in the Right**

Slowly, Harry started to wake up. He felt strange, all warm and fuzzy, protected really. Then he started feeling beyond that and realized he had arms slung around him, warm arms, enveloping instead of crushing or hurting him. Opening his eyes he saw Daphne, still lightly hugging him in her sleep, face stained with a few tear lines.

At that moment it hit him; He had fallen asleep, with a _girl._ Immediately, Harry felt his face go red and tried to extricate himself from her cuddled up form. This woke her up. As she came to, Harry could see her mind making at least some of the same steps his own had done only moments ago and she became as red as Uncle Vernon in a temper tantrum.

"Sorry for falling apart like that" he said after a few seconds of thick silence. "That's not usually like me."

"It's okay Harry. Sorry for falling asleep, cuddled up with you. And for just hugging you, I didn't ask before…" she trailed off, embarrassment evident in her voice.

"You did not have to, no need to apologize" and, his blush further intensifying if that was even possible, he added "I kind of liked it, I slept really well."

"How do you feel now?" she asked in a tender voice, clearly still quite worried about his emotional state. Now, this was a hard question for Harry, considering he could not remember anyone else asking him.

"I'm fine" he answered her, coupled with a shrug. Although he could clearly see how much she did not believe him she did not force the issue and said nothing. Instead, she hugged him again.

"I think I'd like to be alone now, sorry Daphne."

"No need to apologize, Harry" came the reply from close to his ear.

* * *

Daphne left he library, still a little confused about what had happened. She had really liked falling asleep with Harry, despite the circumstances and she had had a few hours of very good sleep. It was not something she could see herself do all the time, but maybe if it happened like this again, there was no problem with it.

The other train of thoughts occupying her mind was a little more worrisome to her. And it featured a green eyed boy she had grown to like quite a bit. Not for a second had she believed him to be fine, not after that outburst and all those emotions. Still, he wanted to be alone and though it hurt her a little she complied.

"Why does it hurt me that he wants to be alone?"

Not having come to a sufficient conclusion to this particular question she reached her temporary home. At the same time, two other people came up the walkway towards the house. One of them was a stern looking woman, hair in a bun and body in a neat and conservative muggle dress. The other one was a slightly balding, red -haired man in a somewhat haphazard combination of muggle clothing.

She reached the door at the same time as the two strangers and the stern woman reached with her hand to the door-bell and ringed.

* * *

It was the early afternoon and Xander Greengrass was doing his mandatory patrol around Little Whinging, thinking about his daughters, the older one specifically. He was glad that she seemed to have found a way to occupy her time away from her usual hobbies and the manor. Having read the signs about his daughter, he suspected she had found a friend. The last few days, his daughter had been happier than he had seen her for quite a long time. Actually, for the first time since she had been old enough to understand what being a member of a wealthy pureblood family entailed: Suck-ups and sycophants all around, out for status and wealth. Xander had never had any problems with it, but his often gentle and caring daughter had taken it quite hard that some of her supposed friends were in it for themselves.

Coming to his door and already dreading to fill out the daily report, in triplicate of course, he got out his keys and opened the door to the house he currently occupied.

"Well, no use in drawing it out" he thought and went for his office desk. Halfway through writing his report, the door-bell chimed. With a slight feeling of trepidation, he went to answer. I could not be Daphne, she was now usually out until dinner time. Furthermore, his wife and other daughter were out shopping and would also only be back in time for dinner. No, to him this could only mean trouble in his otherwise quiet assignment.

The "trouble" presented itself in the form of three people, each of them he recognized. It was their combination that tipped him off. There was his daughter, her face bearing a confusing mixture of emotions and, if he was not mistaken, one or the other tear track. Then there was Arthur Weasley, whom he recognized from the Ministry, where the man was both a figure of ridicule and of grudging respect for his obvious integrity. Now the third one was the most troubling: It was Professor McGonagall alright, but her face showed none of her usual calm stoicism. Instead she wore an expression of extreme worry and quite some anger. To Xander, this could only mean one thing. There was something wrong and he wasn't keen to find out what. Though he was intrigued.

"Professor McGonagall, Mr. Weasley. How may I help you?" Bowing down to his daughter he added: "Hey, princess, you okay."

Without a word, Daphne made a step forward and completely disregarding the audience, she threw her arms around her father as tight as she could, obviously not planning to let go in the near future.

Xander turned his head again towards the other two people at the door as Arthur Weasley started to speak: "Auror Greengrass, we're sorry to intrude upon you. May we come inside it really is no topic to discuss in the open?"

This did nothing to curb Xander's increasing worry and neither did his daughter's unusual actions, for that matter.

"Yes, of course. Please, do come in." He led his guest to the kitchen and they all sat down at the table, Daphne still clinging to her father tightly. "Now, might I know what your visit is about, Mr. Weasley? You both seem to be in a quite grave mood, if I am not terribly mistaken."

This time it seemed to be the Professor's turn to answer: "Auror Greengrass, as I believe you know it is the time of the year when we start delivering the Hogwarts letters to the muggleborn and –raised children. We just went to one of these visits, but the child was gone."

"I gather this is the VIP I've been guarding all the while, without anyone telling me who it was. If you don't mind me asking, how is Misuse of Muggle Artefacts involved in this, Mr. Weasley?"

"Before we can be more forthcoming in our answers, we need your word that nothing will leave the room. And your daughter should probably leave, as well. No one but we and Madam Bones know who you were guarding and it should stay that way."

Now Xander was really intrigued. Of course he had not really believed the story about the reason for his posting, but this was more interesting than even he had thought. His thoughts mulled over the things he knew and he reached a fascinating conclusion.

"I will say nothing of it, neither will my reports. But my daughter stays as it would seem she needs me at the moment. I guarantee you, she too will say nothing outside the four of us. Now would you please just tell me I've been guarding Harry Potter and be done with it" he finished with obvious glee over the gobsmacked expressions of the two people sitting across the table from him.

"The auror training does include some detective skills. You spoke of a muggle-raised magical child about to receive its letter. The age fits. And everyone knows Potter lives with muggles now. Who else would warrant guarding over by an auror, at least who else that is muggle-raised?" He really enjoyed the stunned looks on his guests' faces at his proclamations, chuckling inwardly.

"You still have not told me how Misuse of Muggle Artefacts came to be involved though" he reminded them.

Now it was Arthur Weasley who answered: "Well, it was coincidence, really. You know Wilson, the Obliviator?" At Xander's nod, he continued "He was here after the knight bus incident and he met the young Harry who seemed to be without knowledge of our world and somehow afraid of his Uncle. He told me this over lunch in the cafeteria. After that I made sure to inform Professor McGonagall and told Wilson to be more careful to whom he tells this story. As an auror, I am sure you know how many Death Eaters got off after the war" he finished and Xander nodded glumly. He knew quite well how many "imperius victims" had been cleared of all charges.

Having collected herself more, McGonagall put on her stoic impression again and started speaking: "As for why I did not involve MCPS and the DMLE, Madam Bones knows we're here, because I trust her implicitly. About MCPS, I just don't know the people there that well and I have no intention of letting too many people know that Harry Potter is currently an easy target, despite whatever wards I'm sure are in place. However, knowing what I know of that family, I had no intention to go alone" she finished her explanation with a worried glance towards Daphne, who had clung to her father through the whole conversation and even started crying a little now.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" Xander asked his daughter, now getting very worried over her unusual behaviour. Instead of answering, she just hugged herself to him even tighter and buried her chest in his head. Knowing he would not get anything out of her just now, he again focused on the situation at hand.

"So, we lost Harry Potter?" he asked his visitors.

"In a way, yes that would be correct. We went there today to inform him of our world and give him his letter but he was not there. His aunt said he had been gone for a few weeks now, after a rather severe "punishment" from his uncle" her tone left no question as to what she meant by punishment, and what she thought about that sort of punishment. "She seemed to be quite at ease with herself, maybe even felt in the right. Otherwise, she never would have told us. Probably didn't even really realize who we were until it was too late."

Again, Xander was distracted by the young girl on his lap. This time it was a scoff uttered at McGonagall's explanation of Petunia Dursley's actions. "How could anyone justify that" she mumbled just loud enough for her father to hear.

"Daphne, princess, do you have something to tell me?" he now asked her, a sneaking suspicion forming as to who her daughter's secret new friend might be. She paled a little at his question and looked at him, despair in her eyes.

"I'm sorry daddy, I can't tell you. I promised" she answered apologetically, yet with a lot of conviction in her voice.

"Of course he wouldn't wanna be found, considering what I've just heard. He'd probably think we want to bring him back to those people" he shivered a little, thinking of what the transfiguration mistress had just told him. "Still, we'll have to find him, if only just to make sure he gets his letter and can attend the school."

"It's okay, princess. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to tell us, especially if you promised not to. But would it be okay, if you gave your new friend a message from all of us?" He asked his daughter, who still looked at him quite worriedly.

"I'm sure we won't hold it against you. Especially if you tell him he can attend Hogwarts together with you. Wouldn't that be great?" Slowly Daphne started to smile. Yes, that seemed to be an idea she was very fond of. As was Xander, for that matter. It would be good for his daughter to make a few friends out of the usual circles his family had always been a part of.

"Okay, Daddy. I'll do it, but only for you" she answered him, now smiling widely. Her joy about going to Hogwarts with her new friend was very evident.

* * *

Said friend was now sitting in one of the chairs of his and Daphne's library. "When has it become mine and Daphne's library?" he questioned, surprised that he didn't really know an answer. It had just somehow happened. Surprisingly, he was okay with it. She wanted somewhere to retreat to just as much as Harry himself. Her reasons were different of course; From what he had learned, Daphne's father would never raise his hand against anyone in his family, be it his wife or his daughters.

Xander Greengrass was a man Harry was curious about; Daphne had told him a little about her father, how he was from an old and wealthy magical family but still worked in law enforcement because it was his calling, how he used to tell his daughters stories for bedtime, before they had deemed themselves "too grown up" for story-time. Yes, Xander Greengrass was someone he really much wanted to meet.

Despite this, he was scared of the man. Not because of what he knew about the man himself, but because he was a law enforcement officer and Harry was a runaway. He knew quite well that runaways were brought back to their families when found by the police. This was something Harry was very much opposed to.

He was raised from his musings by Daphne. "Well, this is unexpected" he thought and instantly felt a blush creep up his face, mirroring hers quite nicely. He had deemed himself thoroughly embarrassed when he woke up, with Daphne in his arms. As it turned out seeing her again was worse. A lot worse.

"Hey" she greeted him, barely above a whisper and with a little awkward wave from her hand. "How are you?" she questioned, a sad look in her eyes that Harry could not explain. Maybe there was a little fear too.

"Hey" he greeted her too. And with a shrug he added: "I'm fine. You?"

"We had visitors today" she told him bluntly "they were looking for you."

Panic began rising inside of Harry. "Have they found me? Will they bring me back to the Dursleys? Will they punish me for running away like that? Will they…"

These frantic thoughts were interrupted by Daphne as she stepped forward and enveloped Harry in a tight hug. "I haven't told them anything, they don't know where you are and they don't want to take you back to your relatives" she whispered into his ear consolingly, although the last word came out with quite a sneer. Letting go of him she continued: "But I told you about Dad and he saw right through me. I'm supposed to give you a message. You wanna at least hear it?" She asked him, still a little trepidation in her voice.

"They don't want to take me back?" Harry asked, not daring to hope until he had confirmation. Upon Daphne's affirmative nod he relaxed. "Okay so what's the message?"

"I am to tell you, that after meeting your aunt, no one will expect you to go back there. Furthermore, they implore you to come out of hiding so that you can be safe. Lastly, there was a professor looking for you, her name is McGonagall. She is a teacher at Hogwarts, you know. Wanted to bring you your acceptance letter. I'm so happy you're going too, I can't wait" she finished with a broad smile on her face.

"So I don't have to go back, ever?" Harry asked, still not quite able to believe his luck. He just never was that lucky. He was a little startled when Daphne came towards him and hugged him again. This was just the third time in his life that he had been hugged and they just kept coming. He enjoyed it quite a bit and was moved even more. She seemed to notice Harry's whirling emotions and put a little distance between the two of them to look him in the eye.

"What is it, Harry? Do you not want to go to Hogwarts or do you not want us to go there together?" She was clearly worried that he would not want to be her friend come the day they went to Hogwarts. Maybe a little hurt, too.

Harry was taken aback by this reaction. Had he given any indication of something like this? No, he was quite sure he had not done so. So where did this come from? He hurried to answer her desperate question: "No, of course I'll be happy to be there with you. It's just…" he was getting embarrassed again and paused, steeling his resolve "It's just that I've never been hugged before and you keep hugging me. I really like it, it just takes some getting used to, is all" he finished hurriedly, sure she would see him differently now.

"How should she be able to understand? She loves her family and they love her" he mused sadly.

Her only reaction however, was a whispered "Oh, Harry" and another hug. This one lasted a long time, both of them needing reassurance, although Harry had no real clue about what Daphne needed reassurance about, although he was all too happy to provide it, of course.

After several minutes had passed by, they separated again. Still a bit embarrassed, but they were getting used to being close to each other. "Ok" Harry suddenly uttered. Seeing the confused look on Daphne's face he continued "I'll meet them. In the muggle part of the library, far away from this room, this is our secret hideout" they both grinned a little at the thought of having their own secret hidey-hole. "And I want you there with me. If it's okay with you" he finished, looking at her hopefully.

"Of course I'll be there, Harry, if you really want me to" he nodded vividly" then I'll be there with you. We're friends after all, aren't we?"

"I never had any friends before. They were all scared of my cousin…" he said dejectedly with a note of happiness somewhere in his voice. "I really like having a friend" he now stated with outright glee.

* * *

The next day a slightly nervous Professor McGonagall was on her way to the library. With her was Xander Greengrass, who had really wanted to meet his daughter's new friend. Minerva suspected there was more to his presence than he told her, but she let it rest. She was sure she would know in time.

"How do you think he'll react?" Xander asked her suddenly, the same question she herself had been asking a lot of times by that moment.

"I don't know. We've had cases of this at Hogwarts, of course, but they were all different from each other. And none of those were as severe as Harry…" she answered glumly. "He'll be wary of authority figures, that's for sure. And it won't be easy for him to integrate at Hogwarts, but beyond that we can only guess. Not even the muggle mind healers could predict it and they're way more advanced in dealing illnesses of the mind."

She sighed heavily and went back to her own thoughts of worry interspersed with incredible guilt. Next to her, Xander also was deep in thoughts, obviously still trying to wrap his mind around what he'd learned of the young boy he knew was very important his Daphne.

Both still deep in thoughts they reached the library where they were awaited by Daphne. Professor McGonagall immediately saw the girl was upset, it seemed there already was a problem.

"Hey Dad, hello Professor" she greeted them with a worried look etched into her pretty face and some unshed tears in her eyes. "I'm worried about Harry, he just sits there, hasn't moved at all since we came here to wait for you…" at this, she lost her brave face and ran to her father, throwing herself into him and wrapping her arms around his waist tightly.

"I'll go, Auror Greengrass. You should stay and look after your daughter" the Professor told her companion, who nodded in response. "This is not gonna be easy" she thought and started on her way to where Harry was, as indicated by Daphne.

She reached a secluded corner of the library and there, in an uncomfortable chair sat a small, black-haired boy staring at the book-shelf in front of him, clearly in the throes of a very unpleasant memory, if his occasional flinching was any indication.

The experienced Professor was at a loss as to what to do. Of course she would have to get him out of this state, but she had absolutely no idea how she could achieve that.

"If I touch him, I'll only make it way worse, that much is clear. But how can I snap him out of this?" Before an answer to her self-posed question could be found, a blond blur shot past her and tackled Harry inside his chair. Professor McGonagall could see the panic in his eyes, at least until they fell on the person who had tackled him. As he recognized Daphne he visibly relaxed and hugged her back. Over her shoulder, he let his gaze drift to the Professor.

"Well, that's one way to get him out of his stupor…" she mused and continued, now speaking and not thinking: "Hello, Mr. Potter. My Name is Professor Minerva McGonagall. Would you like this to be somewhere more quiet, or are you quite certain we won't be disturbed here?" As he nodded, she continued her introduction: "I'm a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I've come to hand you your acceptance letter. Term will start on 1st September, should you decide to attend of course. Now, I assume you have a lot of questions, so ask away."

"Thank you Professor" the boy said quietly, still a little fear in his voice. "Why would I be accepted though? I mean, I'm just Harry…" he shrugged and looked at her questioningly.

"You, Mr. Potter, might be "just Harry", but you are still a wizard. That means you should get proper training to control your powers, to make the best of your abilities and, most importantly, to meet people just like yourself, make new friends." At her matter-of-fact explanation the boy's face visibly brightened up, yet a hint of doubt remained in his expression.

"As if he still thinks this to be a cruel joke" McGonagall suddenly realized, although she had no idea where this particular realization came from exactly.

Again his green eyes fell on her and they seemed to bore through her face. She knew the next question was important to him. "What about the Dursleys? They detest everything that's "abnormal and freakish", and this certainly is" he looked very sad as he told her this and the usually very composed Professor got the strange need to hex a certain muggle family.

"It will be taken care of, we will certainly find a way" she assured him with a conviction that she nearly scared herself with. She was surprised at how strongly she felt about this boy and his fate.

"Okay, I have two more questions: One, I can talk to snakes, will that be a problem?" he asked her, again with a worried expression.

At his revelation Professor McGonagall's breath hitched a little. Knowing he would only be satisfied with absolute honesty she started to answer: "It might be, at least for some people. Parselmouths are often thought to be dark wizards, you know." As he nodded his understanding, she elaborated: "Superstitious nonsense, if you ask me, as pointless as divination. But many people believe in it. You said you had two questions?"

"Yes" Harry said, now with a full blown smile on his face "where can I get my school stuff?"

* * *

AN: Hello Y'all

Followers are in the triple digits. Just a few chapters in and already in two communities. I'm so happy right now.

I've recently been contacted about the severity of the abuse I depict Harry to have received. Firstly, it's my choice as a writer, and I think it an important topic to mention once in a while, therefore I do so. Secondly, I don't see emotional abuse and negligence of the calibre the Dursleys depict towards Harry to go without physical abuse as well. My guess, JKR was not inclined to mention it in the first book, as it is hardly a topic for a children's book. After that she had to stick to her choice.

From now on I'll try to update at least weekly, maybe more often. But I won't promise anything.

Do keep your reviews coming, they motivate me a lot. Please do not take it personally if I don't reply to everything, I'd much rather spend the time writing the story, as I'm sure you'll agree.

Have a nice weekend,

alexandertheII


	5. Chapter 5: The Manor and the Alley

**-Chapter 5: The Manor and the Alley**

Xander Greengrass sighed. Form what he had heard about his daughter's friend, the young boy had really lived a terrible life. "I'm sure I still don't know everything…" he mused, recounting the visit from McGonagall and Arthur Weasley. "I really do hope he and my princes are good for each other. She could really use someone and Merlin knows he can as well."

His thoughts continued along a similar while he watched the exchange between the boy and the Professor. He was stirred out of his pondering by something Harry said: "Okay, I have two more questions: One, I can talk to snakes, will that be a problem?"

His face showed some serious anxiety -at asking this question, obviously very concerned about showing this particular "freakishness" to the world. Xander deeply agreed with McGonagall's answer to the matter.

"Calming honesty, what a clever one we have here. "He would see right through a lie," he thought, while pondering the other thing he had on his mind, the thing that could either make or break the boy and possibly by extension his daughter. Xander was again awoken out of his thoughts by Harry, this time the question was directed at him: "Mr. Greengrass was there something else you wanted to discuss with me? Or did you just want to meet your daughter's new friend?"

Now, Xander was really taken aback. "Appears I was right about his observation skills" he determined and followed aloud: "Mr. Potter, I don't know where you are currently staying, but I would like to offer you to come to the Greengrass home with me and my family. I talked about this with my wife and I'm quite certain Daphne will be very happy too…" at this he let his gaze drift towards his oldest child, her face almost split in half by the big grin she now wore "You would be very safe there, from both your _family_ and any other people who wish you harm." His tone and face left it completely open who considered those people to be.

Xander could tell how much Harry liked the idea, but the look on his face was one of such disbelieving and even fear it nearly made the experienced auror cry a little, equally from grief for the boy as from anger over his supposed family's treatment of him.

"I really don't want to impose on you I'm sure you have enough to do, you don't have to" Harry mumbled, his voice becoming ever more quiet the longer he talked.

"Damn those wretched muggles, these poor excuses for human beings…" an extremely irate Xander Greengrass now nearly shouted inside his head. He also noticed the mixed hopeful and pained expression his daughter wore.

"Nonsense, you would not impose on us. Since I'm offering, you can assume you are doing us a favour by coming to stay with us. You could spend a lot more time with Daphne; we could tell you all about the wizarding world. It will be great to have you" Xander assured him, not at all at ease watching the boy who was still in disbelief. However, out of the corner of his eye he saw Daphne make a move that shocked and delighted him equally. She moved over and hugged him.

Sure, Xander had hugged his daughter before and she was not against the idea in itself, but it was rare for her due to how reserved she often was and to see a hug so readily given and received between the two of them really amazed him. The auror could not prevent himself from detecting Daphne whisper something in Harry's ear brightening the boy's still sombre mood.

Harry now turned his head away from Daphne, who was still holding on to him tightly, and towards her father.

"We'll try it, as long as it is no inconvenience to you. And I would like to bring my pet, if that's okay."

It was well past midnight and sleep eluded Daphne. It was not for a lack of trying, rather because she just could not sleep. The conversation with Harry and the adults was replaying in her mind over and over again. She just could not fathom, why such a great kid as Harry would think of himself as a burden. In the end, they had convinced him to accompany them to Greengrass Manor the next day, but it was a hard piece of work to convince him they actually _wanted_ him there.

Unable to sleep, the girl got up with the vague idea to get a glass of water, or maybe milk to calm her nerves and finally get some sleep. Being especially silent so as not to wake the other inhabitants she made her way to the kitchen.

"Hello princess can't sleep?" her father's voice came from the shadowed kitchen table, startling Daphne to no end.

"Hey Dad you scared me there… And yes, I just can't get to sleep" she answered him with a sad smile followed by a yawn.

"Thinking about Harry" he asked her and only received a nod in return. It had been a trying day for Daphne considering how scared she was for Harry and their continued friendship should all this not go well for the boy.

"Yes" she sighed. "I just can't understand why he doesn't get how great he is. He is such a nice guy and he thinks he is a _burden_ , even after you offered him to stay with us" she finished with a pained expression and looked at her father's thoughtful face. She really did hope he would have an answer for her.

"Well, princess. Think about it this way. Imagine, just for a moment your mother and I were gone" at her shocked look he added, consolingly "just for a moment. And you had to live with your great aunt Amalda."

At that thought, Daphne cringed. Amalda was quite a horrible person, definitely one of the darker members of the Greengrass Family and a declared pureblood-supremacist. Moreover, she loathed the entirety of Daphne's immediate family for their relaxed stance towards blood-purity. Or as she put it "for being filthy, muggle-loving blood-traitors".

"Now imagine, again just for a second, you had to live with her as your guardian now. She would constantly tell you how worthless and unwanted you are, how _freakish_. At some point, we start to believe anything, especially as a child and when our only attachment figure tells us. We really are glad Harry turned out the way he did, it could be way worse."

A very sad and scared Daphne, hardly able to even perceive the emotions flowing through her, now stared at her father. She realized that she could only begin to perceive what her friend had lived through, what he had endured. Suddenly, she became angry. Her father, obviously mistaking the anger to be directed at him and not the Dursleys, tried to placate her.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you. I just want you to understand him a little better. I don't want either of you hurt because you have no real chance to interpret what he does, because to him it will all be instinctual."

Again, she nodded, all the anger gone from her face as her father indicated his belief that he was the target. The conversation actually started to interest her, as understanding Harry better seemed like a worthwhile endeavour.

"Okay dad, sorry I go angry. Wasn't about you, though, but about _that_ family," she said. "Can you tell me more? I'd really like to understand him better, there are just weird things I've noticed," she asked, still a little fearful about what the answers might be.

"Sure, princess. I'm guessing he tenses up at physical contact?" upon her affirmative nod he continued, "He never really learned to trust physical contact to be anything but hurtful I guess. Never learned trust in any way. Consider yourself honoured that you are allowed to touch him. If I tried, he would fight me tooth and claw, I'm sure of it."

"Never thought about it like that," she mumbled sadly, now actually feeling honoured like her father had said.

"Okay, one last question, then a warm milk and bed. You can stay with me and your mother tonight, if you want of course."

"Dad, can I help him?"

"I don't know, princess."

Daphne awoke to a ray of sun hitting her face. For a moment she thought she had fallen asleep with Harry again, but then she remembered who the warm body was that embraced her now. She was lying in her parents' bed, embraced by her mother, still a little tired but also very giddy at the thought of returning to the manor and taking Harry with her. The plan her family had come up with was such, that first the Greengrass family would take the considerable amount of belongings they had brought to the muggle-house back to the manor and then she and her father would go back to the library and meet Harry there. They would then sidealong-apparate back to the manor, Harry first and then Daphne.

All parts of the plan went reasonably well, although Astoria was a little put out to have to pack all her stuff again after having just gotten into the "feel of the house", as she put it.

At four o' clock, just as agreed they met Harry at the same place as the day before. He had put all his belongings into a small suitcase Daphne had brought him after seeing the bag he had initially planned to use for transporting his stuff. His snake had perched itself comfortably around his shoulders.

Only after an encouraging nod from Daphne did Harry take Xander's hand for the apparition that would take him to Greengrass Manor.

Harry came out of the feeling of being squeezed through a tube and doubled over. Barely keeping in the contents of his stomach, he turned at the imposing figure of Mr. Greengrass with a questioning look.

"Apparition" the auror explained "not exactly comfortable, but very fast. I'm a little surprised you did not throw up most people do at their first time. I'll just be gone a few seconds to get Daphne, will you be okay?"

After Harry's weak nod the man vanished, spinning in place with a small "pop".

Now alone, Harry started to take in his environment: There was a large iron gate and behind that, he could make out inviting gardens around a small manor. The design of everything was grand but not overly so. It portrayed luxury and wealth while not being overly pompous.

Harry immediately loved it.

After some time a little "pop" announced the return of Xander Greengrass with Daphne in toe. She smiled at him inquisitively, as if her eyes were asking the question "Do you like it?"

"Yes Daphne, I like it" he told a bemused Daphne the answer to her unuttered question. In response, her smile grew wide and she hurried past him and her father, obviously excited.

"You coming, Harry? I wanna show you around!" She exclaimed and without awaiting an answer, she hurried inside.

Greengrass Manor was an average country house consisting of a central area and two wings arranged in a north-south orientation. The main part of the central area was the stately entrance hall with the grand staircase. The whole thing was designed as an atrium and adorned in warm wood. Behind the staircase and the doors on the second floor was the great dining room, the table easily seating 20 guests. Under the dining room were the kitchens, accessible through a secret door inside the panelling next to the staircase. As Daphne told Harry, most family meals were taken in the kitchen at the smaller, more homely table.

The south wing contained all the "non-living" rooms, the library that Harry could not wait to check out, an office he really had no interest in, a potions lab he was anxious to try out and the former gunroom. Harry learned it was now a training room for Mr. Greengrass' work as an auror and therefore heavily fortified with enchantments.

The library, which Harry was really looking forward to exploring spanned two floors, the higher parts of the shelves only reachable by using a small platform, somehow enchanted to bring the person standing on them to where they wanted to go. Within reason, of course and only inside the library.

The potions lab was a room in the basement under the south wing, a large space only partly occupied by potions equipment. The rest was taken by rows of shelves with ingredients and potions, and with a small number of tables on which something that looked like mushrooms grew.

The training room Harry did not think to be anything special, as it only held bare walls and a few dummies. Extremely, disconcertingly lifelike dummies, but still just dummies. Rather boring, Harry thought.

Following Daphne to the North wing, as they were not allowed in the office, they started at the ground floor where they found a cosy sitting room and a small drawing room, both adorned with inviting armchairs and fireplaces. The next floor held several guest rooms, one of which Harry would stay in, two of the others occupied by Daphne and her sister Astoria.

"I'll be just across the hall from you, isn't that great" she smiled at him, obviously enjoying the idea of having all the time she wanted with Harry. He nodded in response and smiled at her. He liked it too, having someone he knew close to him in this completely new environment.

"Upstairs is my parents' bedroom, they have their own floor. No idea why they need a whole floor to themselves" she finished with a puzzled expression at the riddle she had been unable to solve for as long as she could remember.

"I know, it's a little much sometimes, but it's home," she added, looking at him expectantly and a little nervously.

"I love it!"

Harry's room, or rather rooms, were quite the transition for him after a cupboard and a small, hidden apartment. He had a bedroom and an adjoining bathroom, both furnished in warm wood and light grey stone. Unpacking his small suitcase after being shown to his rooms by Daphne ended up taking most of the time until supper.

Having put away the last of his meagre belongings in the large wardrobe, certainly not full, with what little he owned, he sat down on the full-sized bed with the emerald green bed sheets to catch his breath. It had been a long day for him, very tiring indeed. He was anxious at the prospect of having dinner with this new family of which he only knew two members, although he really liked these two members. The young boy really had no idea how to deal with this situation, but before he could come to a conclusion, he was interrupted by a knock on his door.

"Come in" he answered not sure who to expect, hoping it would be Daphne. He was disappointed though, at least partly. It was indeed Daphne, but she was accompanied by a younger girl who could only be Daphne's sister Astoria, at least judging from their hair.

Harry looked at Daphne expectantly, waiting for an introduction: "Harry, this is my _little_ sister Astoria, Astoria this is Harry." Besides her small sneer at her sister's exaggerated pronunciation, Astoria had a winning smile and Harry immediately adored her. In a way very different from how he liked Daphne, but still a lot.

"Hi Harry" the petite blonde started "Daphne told me you like potions, it will be so great to have someone else here who likes potions, Daphne doesn't like them at all, but I like them, and I bet you like Herbology too, it works really well with potions, did you see the mushrooms growing in the potions lab, they're mine and I'm growing them, maybe you can help…"

"Tori, hold on, take a breath" she was interrupted by her older sister when she started to get a little from talking without breathing "leave the poor guy some time to settle in before you try to take him away to the basement." Without her smile, the words would have seemed much harsher than with it, yet the message was clear: _My friend, little sis, back off_.

When it was time for supper the three children were called to the kitchen by the family's old house elf Nibbles. The sight of the creature startled Harry a little, but he had it under control quickly and was now more interested than anything else.

As Daphne observed her friend, she was happy beyond belief that she and her father had gotten him to accompany them to Greengrass manor. Not only did she like the prospect of having someone to spend time with that was not of the usual Slytherin crowd but also she was also sure he was far better off with her family than hiding in the library or, Merlin forbid, being forced to stay at the home of the evil muggles. To Daphne, it was a situation everyone could only gain from.

Out of the shadows, she saw Harry's pet snake slither, following them to the kitchen. Daphne really had no idea whether Nibbles, or her mother for that matter, would react to a snake at the dinner table but suspected if it weren't okay, they would say so and not make a scene.

Reaching the kitchen, they met her father and her mother. This was another important moment she realized, as Harry had never met her mother before and he would certainly leave if he felt unwelcome.

"Hello Mrs. Greengrass. I am Harry, Harry Potter., nice to meet you" he introduced himself a little timidly.

"Hello Harry, it's nice to meet you too. I hope you like out house so far and Astoria hasn't already dragged you to the lab or the library to talk about potions" she greeted and joked.

Eleanor Greengrass was rewarded with something one could only hear very rarely: Harry Potter laughed, loudly and without inhibition. Having cooled of he answered her "She tried to, but Daphne stopped that from happening. Although I don't think it would have been that bad…"

Their friendly banter was interrupted by a huff from both of the Greengrass girls.

"Okay, let's eat, before we get into more trouble. What do you say, Harry?"

"Great idea."

They sat down to eat, Harry next to Daphne, and enjoyed a hearty meal of bangers with mash, followed by treacle tart to which Harry took an immediate liking. Subsequently they adjourned to the sitting room.

"Harry, I would like to talk with you about the next few days," Mr. Greengrass started and then, after getting the boy's attention away from his conversation with Daphne, he continued, "we'll have to go to the Ministry of Magic to file for a change of guardianship. I'm sure you have no desire to return to Privet Drive" receiving an affirmative nod he elaborated further "That means you'll have to tell them about everything that has happened to you, you understand me? That's very important. In addition, you'll also have to be examined by a ministry healer, if only for us to be sure you are okay. Is that alright with you?"

Was that alright with him? Harry really had no idea. He certainly disliked the idea of going back to the Dursleys, but telling the whole story of what had happened to him through the years held very little appeal to him, either. In the end, and he was quite surprised at this, it hinged on one simple thing:

"Can Daphne come?" turning his head towards her he continued "You won't have to listen or anything; I just want you there waiting for me outside, if that's okay for you. You don't have to, of course, I wouldn't wanna burden you."

"Of course Harry, if dad says it's okay, then I'll be there. Is it okay dad?"

"Yes princess, it is" he answered his daughter's pleading, puppy-eye look. "Turning back to Harry he added "Then we will do just that the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow, though we have to get you some clothes."

It was early morning when Harry awoke, the sun just barely above the horizon. He started recounting the events of the previous evening, although there really wasn't that much to recount.

After dinner and their little planning session in the sitting room, the children had retreated to Daphne's room and the girls had shown him wizard's chess. While Harry found it to be very entertaining, he could not help but feel sorry for the little chess pieces, locked in an eternal cycle of war and destroying each other. Not that the figurines did not enjoy destruction.

Today was a day that filled Harry with delight and anxiety in equal measures: He would get new clothes. Even though he really did not want Mr. Greengrass to pay for him, it wasn't like he had another way to pay for new clothes. Also, he was certainly looking forward to having his very own clothes for the first time, not something formerly worn by his cousin and three sizes too big for him.

Deciding he would not be able to sleep anymore he instead rose from the bed and started changing into his best and still horrible clothes.

Adorned in baggy jeans and a shirt with rolled up sleeves he made his way towards the library, intending to have a look at some potions book before breakfast to calm his nerves. His choice landed on something called _Common and Uncommon Healing Potions and Draughts_. While reading a section about valerian root he was interrupted by Daphne who called him to breakfast.

After finishing a hearty English breakfast the whole family plus Harry walked towards the sitting room and the fireplace it contained. Noticing his quizzical expression Mrs. Greengrass explained "It's called floo. You take some of this powder, throw it into the flames, step in to the fireplace and call out the name of the place you want to go to. When you call it out, be really precise in your enunciation. You need neither be loud nor fast, just precise, okay. Now, I will go first, then Daphne and Astoria, so you see it a few times. Do you have any questions?"

Upon Harry shaking his head she took a handful of the weird powder, threw it into the fireplace and vanished in a gust of green flames, exclaiming "Diagon Alley", quickly followed by Daphne and Astoria in the same manner. This left Harry to go next.

Taking a handful of the glittering powder and throwing it into the fire he stepped inside the fireplace and slowly, more calmly than he felt said "Diagon Alley".

It was a unique sensation but not particularly bad, he decided. The flames tingled a little and the travel was confusing, spinning him around until he landed and immediately fell to the ground. Maybe it was bad after all.

He fell out of the fireplace in a rather empty pub seeing as it was way before noon and was greeted by a grinning Daphne and a giggling Astoria, both of them receiving angry glares from both Harry and their mother.

"What are you laughing at?" he grumbled, unable to completely keep his own amusement at his less than grateful entry out of his voice.

"Just how you looked, falling out of that fireplace, very funny" Daphne answered, now giggling like mad.

"How amusing" he grumbled but grinned a little too.

"Calm down you three, and Harry get away from that fireplace before my husband comes through and steps on you. We would not want that, would we?" Mrs. Greengrass commanded.

Just as Harry vacated the spot in front of the fire it roared to life again and out stepped Xander Greengrass, quite elegantly leaving the fire, especially in comparison to Harry's earlier ungraceful attempt.

They left the pub which Harry learned was called _The Leaky Cauldron_ and entered a small yard where Mr. Greengrass drew his wand and tapped a few of the bricks and the wall formed an arch, allowing them into Diagon Alley.

It was a narrow, winding street filled with various witches and wizards wearing colourful robes of all sizes and cuts. There were also some normal outfits strewn in between, but these were few and rarely worn by the older magic folk and instead adorned the teens Harry could see between the older people.

The next thing Harry noticed was the high amount of older people in general and how healthy they seemed. This left him wondering whether magic increased one's lifespan beyond what was normal and he resolved to ask Mr. Greengrass later.

"We'll just get you some clothes and pick up some things for the household. No sense I going to Gringotts before you're eleven, your education fund won't be open until then so we won't take long" Mr. Greengrass explained their plans for the foreseeable future to the still awe-struck Harry who only managed a mumbled "okay" in response.

They quickly maneuvered through the crowds to a shop called _Madam Malkin's_ and entered it. Inside they were greeted by a friendly woman who seemed to immediately size up Harry, Daphne and Astoria.

"Hogwarts robes, dears?" she asked them in a warm tone and looked at them expectantly. This time Mrs. Greengrass took charge.

"Yes perhaps that would be a good idea. Why wait until later when this store is all filled to the brim. Hogwarts robes for my daughter and her friend and for him some muggle clothes as well. The ones he has are certainly insufficient," she proclaimed with a smile towards Harry that completely took the bite out of her words.

Daphne dropped out of the fireplace in the sitting room and gracefully rose to her feet. It had been an altogether enjoyable morning, topped off by ice cream at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. Not even Harry's slight panic and the rigidity of his posture through the whole process of measuring his robes had been able to sour her mood; she just enjoyed their time too much.

After getting their robes measured, they had gone to a wizarding general goods store to get some new floo powder and to the apothecary for some potions ingredients to practice with for Harry and her sister. While she was not happy to share Harry with Astoria, she was incredibly glad the two of them got along so well.

Ambling up to her room, she started making her plans for the rest of the day, knowing Harry and Astoria were probably going to be occupied in the lab brewing some beginner's potion. Seeing that she was on her own, she decided to spend the time with her mother and whatever she had lined up for the afternoon. Maybe she could extract some information about Hogwarts from her, possibly even about the sorting. Not that she was in any way hopeful about that, but there was always hope.

When she reached her room, she dropped off her new robes and started the search for her mother. She found Eleanor in the kitchen, working on some pastries she had been trying to perfect or a long time with her family as unwitting but quite delighted test subjects.

"Hello Daphne, what are you doing here?" her mother asked without having to finish the sentence for both of them to know she had expected Daphne to want to spend the time with Harry instead of her mother.

"Harry and Tori are in the lab, making some potion. Really not interested in that" Daphne answered, still not completely sure if she liked sharing Harry with her sister.

"Ah, I'm sure she won't steel your friend. Your sister is just happy to have someone else interested in potions around here for a change. Let's face it, we're both horrible at potions," she told her daughter, leading Daphne to once again believe her mother to be at least a little psychic.

"I didn't think that" Daphne answered with indignation, although she had at least thought it a little. "I'm really happy they get along that well, but I thought Harry would spend the time with me, you know?"

"Little one, would you really want him to hog all your time. Also, you get him for the whole school year; Astoria won't be going to Hogwarts for two more years. She's just really enjoying having someone who shares her interest. Be honest, would you want to share that particular interest with Harry or your sister? Didn't think so" a now smiling Eleanor commented her daughter's slightly anxious expression.

No, Daphne had no interest to share her sister's passion in Potioneering. Viewed from this perspective she was actually glad Harry could vent all his passion for potions with her sister.

The following morning, Daphne awoke early. She was agitated about the appointment at the Ministry and how Harry would feel afterwards. And while she was incredibly pleased to be asked to tag along, she was also worried about how she would feel when the day was over, all due to her feelingnof impending misery.

Recognizing any further attempts at sleep to be fruitless endeavours she instead got up and went to the library, a vague plan about reading to calm her nerves in her mind.

When Daphne reached the lilbrary she found that she had not been the only one with that plan, only she had made it at another time. There, in one of the armcairs lay Harry, glasses still on his nose and a _The Rise ynd Fall of the Dark Arts_ still on his lap. He was squirming around in his sleep, mumbling things Daphne could not understand and seemed to be in a lot of pain. Whether his pain was a pain of the mind or the remembrance of bodily harm, she could not discern. As if she were compelled she reached out with her hand to lightly touch his shoulder.

Harry awoke with a scream of panic and immediately his squirming body curled up as small as possible, like one would to give as little room to an attacker as possible.

When he finally turned his eyes at Daphne, his look held so much pain she could have cried right then and there. Instead, she just took another step forward and enveloped her friend in a hug. After initially tensing up, he relaxed into her embrace and now she let her tears flow.

AN: Hello guys,

Sorry this one took so long, was not easy to write. It underwent several changes in title as what I had planned to occupy a few paragraphs turned out to be way more. The upside is, I have a lot more lined up to finish up on my train ride to the family Christmas celebration.

Happy Ho-Ho-holidays


	6. Chapter 6: Happenings at the Ministry

**Chapter 6: Happenings at the Ministry**

When Harry woke up, he was relaxed and enveloped by a warm feeling. As the fog cleared from his mind, he started to comprehend that he was hugged by more than a warm feeling.

"And, I did it again. Great, falling asleep cuddling Daphne…" he thought with a slight chuckle that immediately fled once he heard someone giggling. Someone who was most certainly not Daphne.

Freeing his face from Daphne's hair and shoulder he took a look at the source of the giggling, its volume constantly increasing and now nearing full blown laughter. There, in the door of the library, one hand on her stomach and one on her mouth to muffle the noise stood Tori, as he had come to call her.

"Good morning," he said lowly, not daring to look at her for fear of becoming even more red should he dare to do so.

"Enjoying yourselves, are you?" she asked with a smirk after finally getting a hold of her uncontrollable laughter.

"Yes I am, now go away" came a voice from Harry's neck where Daphne's face was hidden behind her blond strands, "I was sleeping just fine until you had to interrupt it," she scolded her little sister, brought her face up from Harry's shoulder and glared at Astoria.

"As much as I'd like that _Daph-Daph_ " she responded, using a nickname Daphne obviously hated, "mum sent me to get you and Harry for breakfast. It's nearly nine, you don't wanna miss your important Ministry appointment, do you?"

"Well in that case" Daphne, now in a dangerous voice, said," you won't breath a word of where or how you found us to mum or dad, you understand me? There are things you don't want them to know, right…" she finished ominously.

Harry watched the whole exchange in fascinated silence, having never seen any sibling-dynamic before. When he saw Tori pale at Daphne's threat he knew her leverage must be quite good to evoke such a reaction. He resolved to ask her about it later.

"Deal?" Daphne asked, a small winner's smile apparent in her voice.

"Deal" Tori answered with a gulp.

The situation resolved, Harry and Daphne went back to their respective rooms. Shortly before they reached Daphne's door where they would part, Harry held her back and looked at her a while.

"Just so you know; I don't mind when it happens like that…" he began, timidly, "when we fall asleep like that. I would not do it as a plan, but it's okay like that."

He was extremely anxious about this confession, not about the content of it, which he was very sure of, but about her reaction. However, his fears turned out to be unfounded, as she only smiled at him shyly and gave a little nod, like she was not trusting her mouth to answer.

Without another word to each other they parted to their respective rooms and immediately, Harry's anxiety returned to its original topic: The appointment with the Ministry. He was relieved Daphne was allowed to come along, even with his self-imposed restrictions upon her presence. He didn't want her to hear what he had to tell the Ministry people, didn't want her to think less of him. And if she was there he was absolutely certain she would.

He quickly changed into some of his new clothes and left his room. When he reached the kitchen, the Greengrass household, minus Daphne, was already sitting there, waiting for the two to come. Harry was greeted with, somewhat forced smiles, by Daphne's parents and with a wink and a small shake of the head by Tori, signalising him she had kept her word about "not breathing a word".

The boy joined the others at the table and they made small-talk for a few minutes until Daphne, clad very respectably in witches' robes, joined them. As breakfast wore on, the topic of conversation gradually turned away from the rather mundane topics of Quidditch (a wizarding sport played on brooms, or so Harry was told), the potions Tori and he had been working on and a delightfully clumsy auror-candidate named Tonks, who had just joined the academy.

Instead, they were now talking about the appointment at the Ministry, a topic Harry was decidedly unhappy about. Tori was prying for information what exactly had been important enough to warrant getting an appointment at such short notice and why exactly no one had told her the reason Harry was suddenly living in their house.

"Not that I mind," she suddenly blurted out, ears red and looking at Harry with slight horror in her eyes," of course it's great to have you here, finally someone to talk to about potions. It was just really suddenly; you know?"

"Of course, Tori. Didn't assume anything different" he soothed her. He really had not thought anything different, because he knew how real rejection was delivered and felt. Still, he had not been able to completely block out all his anxiety when Tori had spoken.

"Oh, I'm relieved. Because I, for one, really do love to have you here;" Daphne cut in, throwing her sister a small, dangerous glare. Obviously, there was more going on than Harry was able to comprehend.

"We all are," Mrs. Greengrass now tried to end the situation, throwing a glance at Daphne, eyes widening a little when she noticed the glare in her daughter's eyes. "But now it really is time to eat up, you'll want to be at the Ministry a little early, just so you have some time to cool down after floo travel." After that, and even though Harry could tell "floo-travel" was in no way the reason for him having to cool down, breakfast went down without a hitch and by a quarter past nine Mr. Greengrass, Daphne and Harry were ready to leave for the Ministry.

Harry fell out of the floo in a large, gloomy room. It was a big atrium, two walls lined with a multitude of fireplaces. On the far end of the room stood a large fountain with a wizard, a witch, a goblin, a house-elf and something Harry was not sure about but thought it could be a centaur.

He was soon joined by Daphne and Mr. Greengrass, both of them leaving the fire with a lot more grace than Harry had shown. When they were all there they made their way to a small desk at the end of the hall and the bored looking wizard behind it. As they drew closer, the wizard looked up and quickly took in Mr. Greengrass and Daphne. Then his eyes fell on Harry, or rather his scar. He dropped the paper he had been reading and in an instant was at attention.

"H… Harry Potter, an honour to meet you. Auror Greengrass, how can I help you" he asked with way more professional dignity than shown before.

"My two guests and me have an appointment," he answered and Harry noticed the vagueness of that answer.

"He wants me to have the choice about how much the guard knows," he thought.

"Okay. I assume you don't have wands to register? No. Fine, then state your name and business so you can be outfitted with visitors' badges. Let's start with the young lady, all right?"

"Daphne Greengrass, I'm here to support a friend," she stated with an immense conviction that warmed Harry's heart and helped him formulate his answer:

"Harry Potter, hearing with Magical Child Protective Services" he nearly mumbled. But the stunned expression or even ridicule he had expected did not come, instead the security wizard just gave him a smile and an understanding look before handing them both visitors' badges. One read _Daphne Greengrass, Moral Support_ and the other one displayed the words _Harry Potter, Witness at Hearing_.

Shooting the security wizard one last thankful look they departed the lobby towards an assortment of elevators. They boarded a lift and Mr. Greengrass pushed the button for level two.

"MCPS is with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Seems a bit strange, but to be honest, the whole Department is misnamed. The closest thing in the Muggle world would probably be the Home Office. DMLE is very important, and the head of it is surpassed in power only by the Minister and possibly the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Senior Undersecretary, that would be Fudge, Dumbledore and Umbridge." Pondering a little, the auror added "I'm quite certain neither of those three would wish to run afoul of Amelia Bones…" He chuckled a little.

At that moment the doors of the elevator opened and a warm female voice announced "Level One, Minister for Magic and Support Staff."

The three of them were then joined by a small swarm of self-propelled paper airplanes, that started to circle the ceiling. As the doors closed again and the elevator set in motion, one of the airplanes was not fast enough to react and add the sudden vertical velocity into its trajectory, leading to it being smacked by the now rapidly falling elevator.

This absurd picture prompted the first real laugh Harry had uttered since waking up that morning and a lot of the pent up tension he felt was released as he saw the now severely battered plane trying its best to stay aloft and failing at it spectacularly. Instead of flying, the plane had now taken up a sort of spiralling motion, following the bend in its wing.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services" the voice now proclaimed, immediately forcing Harry's anxiety back to the forefront of his mind.

He startled a little as he felt a small, warm hand encircle his and saw Daphne throw him a small, warm albeit a little forced smile. After one last squeeze she released the hand of a surprisingly reluctant Harry. He had found the physical contact quite reassuring and was hesitant to let go of pretty much the only thing that was reassuring him at that moment.

They left the elevator and followed Mr. Greengrass along a corridor lined with doors until they reached a larger intersection where they found two larger doors at the ends of the intersecting corridor. Daphne's father purposefully led them through one of them into a small waiting area, obviously meant for children, as it was adorned with a number of very worn toys and some children's books.

"Daphne, this is where we have to leave you behind. I think we won't be long, I'm certain you'll find something to occupy your time," Daphne was instructed by her father.

With a disdainful look at the toys and books, both clearly meant for much younger children, she answered," I'll be fine." Now, she turned towards Harry," And you'll be too. I'm just outside, everything will turn out just fine."

To Harry however, she sounded a little like she wanted to convince herself rather than him. With a last reassuring smile on her face they lost sight of her as they made their way deeper into MCPS.

Their target was a simple, nondescript door with a worn brass name-plaque: _Jenny McGregor_.

Jenny McGregor's alarm sounded.

Sleepily, she turned around, hit the magical alarm clock to make it stop ringing and slowly she started to get up. Looking at her dresser, she wondered why she even bothered having a multitude of different clothes, considering that in workdays she had to wear her boring, traditional ministry robes and on the weekends she was usually too depressed from the days she spent working at MCPS to do anything more than hang around in her pyjamas and sleep. A lot.

"Well, this is what you get for dropping out of Hogwarts" she thought to herself, remembering a conversation she had led with her father that had predicted pretty much exactly this to be the outcome of her decision.

After a hasty breakfast, she took the floo to the Ministry lobby and took an elevator to level two, where she walked to her office. With a sigh, she let herself fall into her uncomfortable, old chair and took out her schedule for the day. When she reached the appointment at 10, her eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

 _Auror Greengrass, escorting Mr. Harry Potter_

Harry watched, feeling almost detached from himself, as Mr. Greengrass knocked at the door and heard a surprisingly young, and nearly timid voice answer: "Come in."

The woman that greeted them from behind the desk in the tiny, stuffed office looked to be in her early twenties, although Harry found it hard to judge due to his inexperience with most people and the somehow silly expression of awe on her face.

Harry sighed; It seemed he had not been lied to about his celebrity status and he didn't like it one bit. He was drawing attention, drawing attention got you hurt, that much he knew.

Both having taken the seats offered to them by hand gesture, they now looked at the young witch expectantly. Shuddering a little, shaking her head as if waking up from a dreamy state, she looked at them and finally found her voice again.

"Auror Greengrass, Mr. P… Po… Potter, how may I help you?" she asked in a slightly squeaky voice

"We are here to file for the removal of Harry from his guardians; They are unfit for the task of raising a magical child" the annoyed sounding auror filled her in.

"And w… why are they unsuitable guardians, if I may ask Auror Greengrass?"

"They are abusive. When I first saw young Harry here, he was bruised and from what he told me and my daughter, this is due to his uncle's hatred of all things magical. It was neither the first time, nor will it be the last time, should he return there."

The ministry witch looked at the duo in front of her in complete shock. To Harry, it seemed as though she could not make the connection of _The Boy Who Lived_ being the same person as _Harry Potter, battered child_ , and it annoyed him to no end.

Ms. McGregor, for the first time, turned her eyes toward Harry and looked straight at him. With a soft voice, her limited professionalism obviously kicking in, she asked: "Mr. Potter, can you confirm this?" At his nod, she continued," Then I'll have to get a full statement from you, as well as any possible witnesses. Yours I will take now, all other statements can be written and sent here."

She started to bustle around in her chaotic desk and pulled out a large feather and a roll of parchment. The feather dipped itself into the ink glass she opened and, with a flick of her wand, the parchment smoothed out and the quill hovered over its surface.

"Now, Mr. Potter, please tell me: How was it living with your relatives?"

After telling his story, Harry just sat there, staring at the wall of the office, consumed by sadness, embarrassment and shame. No one tried to get him out of his state and he was glad for it, just wanting to be alone with his thoughts for a while.

Suddenly, the door to the office burst open and in flew a blonde-haired missile. Harry, his senses alert from reliving memories of past encounters with Vernon's rage, tried to hide behind his chair, but before he could get anywhere, Daphne had reached him and thrown her arms around him, completely oblivious to her lightly astonished father and the completely flabbergasted ministry worker.

Regaining her composure, Ms. McGregor shot a glance at the auror and, upon seeing him relax, she turned towards the intruder.

"Might I ask what you are doing here?"

Without moving away from Harry, Daphne answered her: "It felt like Harry needed me, so I came." Her rational tone paired with her being unwaveringly positioned in Harry's arms seemed to convince the grown-ups they would be hard-pressed to either force or convince the girl to leave. In all honesty, Harry was sure they would be biting their teeth out trying either of these things.

Overcoming her shock, the ministry worker now addressed her guests," Now, from what I heard, it should not be much of a problem to remove Mr. Potter from the _care_ of his relatives. It will, however, require a full investigation to fully rescind their rights to him, although I am not certain how these rights came to be anyway. As it stands, Mr. Potter will stay with a ministry-approved temporary guardian until a permanent solution can be found. Are there questions?"

"Who will this ministry-approved temporary guardian be" Harry inquired, terrified by what little he knew about the foster system in the muggle world, which his uncle had sometimes used to scare him.

"If I may, I might be able to offer a solution", Mr. Greengrass interjected," my wife and I talked about this, and we would be happy to be Mr. Potter's temporary guardians. If it is okay with Harry of course…"

As he heard this, Harry was flooded with an even more incredible feeling of warmth than that of Daphne still hugging herself to him. "Well, maybe not better, but different" he thought. The idea that someone wanted him, and that he would even be asked beforehand, was filling him with feelings he could not quite place.

"Mr. Potter, while I take your grin as a _Yes_ I do need your verbal assent, just for the sake of protocol. Otherwise I'll have to fill out even more reports later, in triplicate."

Xander Greengrass sighed loudly. They had returned from the Ministry a few minutes ago and Harry and his daughter had immediately taken off to celebrate. Whatever that meant. He wondered how it would all turn out and also how his daughter had been able to come in at just the right time and get Harry out of his stupor. His reverie was interrupted by his wife, Eleanor.

"What is whirling around your head, my dear husband?" she asked with a concerned voice.

"It just wasn't an easy morning. I mean, I know how his relatives treated Harry, but hearing it always shakes me to the core. There was also something curious with Daphne; She seemed to sense how distraught Harry was at the end of the interview and just stormed into the room to hug him…" he trailed off, not knowing how to properly describe the situation.

"Were you able to do what we planned?"

"Yes," he chuckled, and as an answer to her questioning glance, added "it's highly irregular. But being an auror has its perks, seeing as we are all vetted for potential dangers regularly. And that the case-worker was completely in awe of Harry did not hurt either."

"I can imagine that" she chuckled," but I'm sure Harry did not like it, did he?"

"Not one bit. Maybe that's a good thing, that he doesn't enjoy the attention. Otherwise he would become spoiled, it would kill Daphne for Harry to change like that."

Daphne took Harry "celebrating", which for her meant going to the kitchen and indulging in whatever they found. As it turned out, the supply they found was inadequate and she decided, with Harry's backing, that something had to be done. This meant cooking. Or rather baking, at least for Daphne, because, just like her mother, she hated cooking. Baking was better.

Harry however seemed to be more of the cooking type, so they determined that he would cook and Daphne would bake. Dessert seemed to be exactly what they needed after their day. The decision about what they would make was not that hard: Harry wanted treacle tart, Daphne wanted Chicken Tikka Masala. Harry would make the chicken, Daphne would make the tart.

Two hours later, Eleanor Greengrass entered the kitchen to take in a view of utter devastation: There was flour all around, a multitude of pans and pots were strewn around and two children were sitting at the table, grinning and happily munching on a somewhat dishevelled looking treacle tart.

Her shock and anger she felt about the state of her kitchen were abated by the joyous smiles on the two faces before her. Nevertheless, she had to scold, for appearances sake.

"Would you mind telling me, what you are doing here?"

The children's faces froze, and they looked up at her, some trepidation in Daphne's face, utter terror displayed on Harry's.

"We're sorry, Mrs. Greengrass, we really didn't mean to make a mess. Please don't make me go back to the Dursleys." Eleanor heard panic in his voice, and her annoyance over the state of her kitchen was replaced by sadness and sympathy for the distraught boy.

"It's alright, Harry. We will never make you go back there. The way things are handled here is, you make a mess, you clean it," she said, in as calming a voice as possible, but clearly, she was unable to completely reach Harry, who still looked terrified.

"Harry," Daphne now interceded with a warm, concerned tone," Harry, snap out of it. You never have to go back. We'll just have to clean the kitchen, nothing more. And maybe we'll have to relinquish some of the food, as an appeasement, you know."

Her small joke, along with her soothing words seemed to get through to Harry and the boy started to relax a little. Still the tension never fully left his body, his eyes never really shed their haunted look.

"Come on, let's clean this up and then we can take a stroll over the grounds, okay?" her daughter asked, a forced calmness in her voice. With a slight nod, Harry acknowledged her, and Eleanor left the pair to their cleaning, knowing it would be better for Harry to not have any grown-ups present at this time.

AN: Hello all,

I hope you all enjoyed your holidays, or rather still are. This is a shorter chapter and you can expect another one shortly.

Please review, it helps a lot.

alexandertheII


	7. Chapter 7: The first real Birthday

**Chapter 7: The first real Birthday**

On the morning of the 31st of July, Harry awoke early. This was not unusual for him, but this time someone was shaking him very gently. He had to admit he liked being shaken awake gently, not roughly like the Dursleys would. Opening his eyes, the happy face of Daphne Greengrass beamed down on him.

"Wake up, sleepyhead! It's your birthday!" She exclaimed, louder than needed, as he was already awake.

This surprised Harry since he had forgotten about the day. His birthday had never been cause for celebration to anyone. "It's my birthday…" He said lowly, still unsure how he liked being made a fuss over.

"Of course, silly. You better get up, before I have to force you. There are presents waiting for you, and I want to know what they are!" She ordered him enthusiastically, her voice only partly tinged in joviality. To Harry it seemed, like she really wanted to know what these presents were.

"Time to play a little trick on you…" He thought, chuckling inwardly.

"Hmm, I don't know about that. Maybe I might need to nap more and open my presents after lunch, you know?" He said in a jokingly-earnest voice. Upon seeing her crestfallen look, he decided to set the record straight: "I'll be there shortly, just messing with you, Daphne!"

"I'll get you back for that! I also want to know how you like my present. Not that there's any way you couldn't" Daphne said, smirking.

"If it is from you, there really is no way I would not like it," Harry told her sincerely. Hell, he would like every present he got since they were going to be his first ever, but hers he would love.

* * *

As he dressed, Harry thought back to the last weeks he spent with the Greengrass family. He had started to trust them, at least the children. Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass he liked, but couldn't trust just yet.

He and Daphne had spent a lot of time together - studying the library, exploring the grounds of the manor and altogether having a fun time. Whenever they had left the house, they had been accompanied by Ouroboros, who apparently liked the woods around the property way more than Little Whinging. Actually, he liked everything better than Little Whinging.

The family had managed to get used to Harry's pet quite well, helped in no little part by his ability to catch stray rodents. After he saved a number of Tori's more valuable potion plants from a mole, the girl's initial hesitance had turned to wholehearted approval. Mrs. Greengrass' approval had been earned by preventing a number of rodent incursions into her pantry. For Daphne, it had been enough the snake made Harry happy, and Mr. Greengrass was just happy his family was happy.

The one thing that made Harry sad was that he couldn't bring Ouroboros to Hogwarts since his letter stated he was allowed to bring an owl, cat or toad however it did not mention anything about snakes, so his friend had to stay behind. Despite reassurances from Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass, that he would be well cared for, Harry was very sad.

When he was fully dressed, he made his way down toward the kitchen, but to his surprise he found it empty. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a small piece of paper on the table:

 _Dining Room_

Now, Harry was intrigued. He knew Daphne's handwriting when he saw it, but he had no idea why he would be ordered to the dining room by her, considering how little time the family spent there. Not the least bit closer to solving the riddle, he left the kitchen and took the grand staircase to the dining room.

When he entered, he was almost floored by the sight that awaited him: there were decorations everywhere, garlands and a large _Happy Birthday_ sign with moving letters. On the table awaited the largest cake he had ever seen.

Daphne had spotted him in the doorway and ran up to him, giving him a strange mixture of a hug and a tackle, all the while squealing something that sounded suspiciously like "Happy Birthday, Harry!". Her hug was soon followed by Tori, albeit a little less enthusiastically, helping him up from the floor and hugging him tightly. Neither of the parents tried the same, for which Harry was glad.

"Breakfast or presents first?" Daphne asked, her voice giddy with excitement.

"Breakfast," Harry answered. "I am starving. Also, it is really funny to see you squirm while waiting to find out what's in those presents."

"Pah! Don't know why I got you a present in the first place if you're gonna be like that…" She joked, smiling at Harry's humour.

They proceeded to enjoy a hearty breakfast, with every favourite breakfast dish Harry had, from pancakes to sausages. Nibbles had outdone himself, as he had taken quite the liking to the polite boy who had moved into the manor.

Finished with breakfast, Harry turned his sight to the small pile of presents. Deciding to end her torment, he took Daphne's present first and started to very slowly and deliberately open it.

"Move along, you're killing me here!" Daphne exclaimed.

Ignoring her protest to his slow progress, he slowly finished opening her present. His jaw dropped. In front of him lay a beautifully crafted rendition of the Potter crest imprinted on a polished piece of wood. As he touched it, the crest changed and showed the picture of a small, black-haired baby held by two grown-ups, one of them a man with black, unruly hair, and the other a beautiful woman, with red hair and a loving smile on her face.

"They don't move like most wizard photographs, otherwise the charm to change the picture would not work. Dad helped me with the charms and with getting the picture from the Ministry archives, but I did all the carving and preparing of the wood. I hope you like…."

She was stopped in her tracks by Harry throwing his arms around her neck and dragging her close to him. It was the first picture of his parents he had ever seen.

He held on to her for nearly five minutes before he turned away, face and ears red. Ignoring what had just been witnessed, Tori put her present in Harry's hand and he started to open it. Not as slow as Daphne's, but still just as deliberate, savouring the moment.

What he found in the end had him a bit puzzled: It was a notebook, beautifully bound in leather, again with the Potter coat-of-arms emblazoned on it in the bottom-right corner.

Seeing his confused expression, Tori elaborated: "It's a journal, more precisely a potions journal. It will take all the notes you have on that subject, and it will never be full. Whenever you run out of pages, more will show up. Plus, it has a really neat overview of all the common ingredients, and some of the uncommon, in it. Quick reference, you know. You can even buy a second one later that automatically copies everything that you write in the first one, if you ever lose it. Neat, right?" She grinned at him.

"It really is, thanks Tori!" He thanked her, but couldn't quite refrain from adding something," I bet you would like to take a look at it some time, am I right?"

"I would be very contrite with you if I weren't allowed to, yes." She answered with a cheeky smile, prompting him to laugh loudly.

"I'm sure I will be able to accommodate you," he said, after reigning in his laughter.

"You better!" Astoria yelled.

"Enough, you two." They were interrupted by Mrs. Greengrass. "It's our turn now. Harry, you have been living with us for some time now, and we think it is time for you to stop calling us Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass. From now on, we're Xander and Eleanor."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gree… I mean Eleanor." Harry said, while thinking it would take some time to adjust to that.

"Secondly," Xander now took up where his wife had left off. "Our other gift to you is when we go to Diagon Alley with you kids tomorrow, we will visit the _Magical Menagerie_ and you can pick out a pet to take with you to school."

This time, Harry was speechless and looked at Xander and Eleanor thankfully.

"No need to thank us, Harry. We know how unhappy you were to have to leave your snake here. She will be well cared for, we promise. Although food should be no problem, if she keeps defending our property from rodent dangers and eats them later," he chuckled and looked at the happily digesting Ouroboros, curled up in the corner of the room.

The rest of his presents were more unspectacular. There were a few sweets from a man named Lupin that Harry did not know, but who seemed to be a friend of his parents. And a rather odd birthday card from MCPS case-worker Jenny McGregor.

"They send those out to all children MCPS is concerned with." Xander clarified.

The last of his presents was a book: _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. Enclosed with it was a letter, which Harry opened.

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _I hope you are doing well after your removal from your relatives'_ care. _I assume you did not expect a present from me, so let me offer you an explanation for this one. It is the first year Transfiguration book. The additions you will find everywhere are from your father's own hand. There is one of these for every year you will attend Hogwarts, and your father entrusted them to me to give to you at each of your birthdays after he made them for you._

 _Happy Birthday,_

 _Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

When Harry finished with the letter, he had tears in his eyes again. Never before had he owned something of his parents, and he would cherish this.

"Oh, Harry! This is so great!" Daphne, who had been looking over Harry's shoulder, exclaimed. Harry thought the same, and even though he had the feeling he should be angry at Daphne for reading his letter, he was just happy and eager to share his happiness with everyone.

It took some time for Harry to calm down again. When he did, Xander spoke up, "Harry, there was also a letter to all of us from Arthur Weasley, who played a vital role in helping us find you and he has a son approximately your age. They've invited us for afternoon-tea on Saturday."

"Sounds great!" Harry agreed enthusiastically.

"Yeah," Daphne added, with forced enthusiasm.

* * *

Harry and Daphne spent the rest of the day together. Some of the time they were accompanied by Tori, but mostly it was just them, and they relished their time together even more than usually.

Sometime around early afternoon, they were sitting on an old tree stump, cooling down from a race they had.

This was the time Daphne chose to address something that had been bothering her for quite some time.

"Harry, can I talk to you about the day at the Ministry?" She asked, and upon noticing him tense up, she added, "You don't have to talk about anything you are uncomfortable with. I… I think it helps me understand you better, you know?"

Harry was stunned by her request, that much Daphne was able to tell. He took some time, in which he seemed to compose himself and then his emerald eyes bored right into hers, making Daphne shiver a little.

"I'm sorry, Daphne. I would like to tell you, but I really can't. You know some, and that has to be all for now." He said dejectedly, with an apologetic look.

"That's okay Harry, it really is." She soothed him. Daphne started again, "by the way, are you angry at me for barging in? I mean, I know you did not want me in there, it just felt like you…"

"It's alright Daphne; you came at just the right moment," He interrupted her.

That was another item off her list, now only the most frightening one remained: "I somehow felt like you needed me, like you were in distress. And I've felt some of you other emotions since then. Did you feel something like that, too?"

This was the question that made her most nervous: Would Harry feel like his privacy had been violated or would he think her to be crazy? She shuddered at the thought of losing him as a friend over this.

"Yes, I did. At first, I thought I was crazy, but now that you say the same, I don't know anymore," Harry trailed off, seemingly as much at a loss for words to describe it.

"Well, at least we're both not crazy…I think." She tried to lighten the mood, rather unsuccessfully. "Do you think we should tell my parents?" The girl inquired, not sure herself which answer she would like to hear. The one that came however, was not surprising to her.

"No, I don't think so. Let's keep an eye on it, see what happens. As far as we know, it's harmless, no need to involve them until we ourselves are sure what it is, right?" He looked at Daphne pleadingly, and she realized despite all his uttered, actually very reasonable factors, he just didn't want to tell them since a lingering doubt about their trustworthiness remained inside of him. To her, this left only one answer.

"Okay. But if it turns out to be something significant, or even dangerous, we have to tell them. Deal?"

With a pained expression, Harry answered: "Deal."

* * *

The following day came bright and early for the residents of Greengrass Manor. They planned to avoid the crowds so they headed out right after breakfast. Using the same fireplace as before, they flooed to the _Leaky Cauldron_. First order of business was Gringotts, as they wanted to get some gold for Harry out of his educational funding and initiate a monthly stipend for running costs and a little pocket money.

As Daphne's parents were alive and she did not have a trust fund set up for her, they could do the same for her, even before her 11th birthday later that week, as the money would just come from her family's vault.

Therefore, the Greengrass family now walked into the bank, followed by an astonished Harry, mouth hanging open at the impressive grandeur of the bank building. He was made aware of how funny he must look by the chuckling of both of the Greengrass girls, and he quickly tried to bring his face into a more dignified state. He only succeeded in it partly, as much he could discern from Daphne and Tori's continued smirks.

They went up to the first of the large, imposing desks that was free and were greeted by a goblin.

"Yes!" He grunted.

"First, my wife and I would like to withdraw some money from our vault and set up a monthly stipend for our daughter during her Hogwarts years. Second, Mr. Potter would like to see his account manager and later his trust vault. Will you be able to accommodate us?" Xander asked the goblin, who grunted in return and waved to follow him.

After a disorienting journey through the hallways of Gringotts, they reached a door of solid wood, embossed with what looked like pure gold.

"No, it is not gold. That would be impractical, it is way too soft for the fittings of doors." The Goblin told a bemused Harry. "We do see that look quite often," He added, with what seemed like a grin.

Inside the room they were greeted by another goblin, obviously the superior of the first goblin. He looked older and, if possible, even more miserable than the first one.

"Lord and Lady Greengrass, I hope you are doing well." He greeted the adults, completely disregarding the children. "What may I do for you?"

"Greetings, Bakras, I hope your coin flows as well as it always has." Xander reciprocated the greeting. "My wife and I were hoping to set up everything for my daughter's years at Hogwarts. Same thing as with me, if you remember. Just calculate how much the price of everything increased and then give her the same I got, if you please."

"Precise and planned, just how I enjoy it. I trust with your family present, you do not wish to discuss business and this was it?" Upon Xander's nod, the goblin suddenly turned his eyes to Harry, who had watched the exchange, captivated.

"Now, Mr. Potter, what might Gringotts be able to do for you?" He asked, in a voice that left open if he was happy to help, or not.

"Hello, Mr. Bakras. I hope your coin flows well," Harry greeted, eliciting a small look of surprise on the goblin's impassive face. "I was hoping to prepare everything for Hogwarts. I know my parents left me some money…"

He was interrupted by a sound, that, at first, seemed to have all humans in the room on edge; Bakras was laughing.

"Describing your inheritance as 'some money' is certainly something I did not expect. Yes, your parents left you money, but as I am not the account manager, I do not know the amount, but it a quite a bit more than 'some money'. Shall I get the manager for you?"

With Harry's assent, he barked an order into a tube on his desk and sat back to wait for the Potter account manager's arrival.

Not five minutes later, the door was opened and in walked the oldest creature Harry had ever seen. The goblin had sparse, white hair, a deeply wrinkled face and two milky white eyes, almost silver.

When he talked, his voice was raspy and wheezing a little: "Hardwin Potter, I expected to see you here earlier, and with your parents. Sadly, that was not possible…"

"Hello, Mr…" Harry started, realizing that he didn't know the goblin's name.

"Silversight, and yes, it is because of the eyes, that I have this name." He answered Harry's unasked question.

"Hello, Mr. Silversight. I am just Harry, not anyone else," he told the old goblin, in hopes of dissuading the use of this strange _Hardwin_ name.

"Well, in that case, Harry, I am just Silversight. You are actually in quite a good company among plenty of your ancestors with your name there. A number of them were named like this, and chose to be known as Harry," he said, with a chuckle, that was highly unusual for a goblin. "As for your inheritance, I am not able to share the full amount since it is not to be disclosed to you until your coming of age. Rest assured, the allowance you receive is more than made up by the income of patents and businesses currently owned by your family. This part of your inheritance, is currently being managed by me. For a reasonable percentage, of course…" His expression indicated, that this percentage was quite enough to make him very happy.

"Thank you, Silversight. That is quite a lot of information, I don't really know how to process it," Harry told the goblin, feeling quite overwhelmed by the situation.

"The only thing you have to know is that you will receive a monthly stipend of 30 Galleons, that is around 150£. It is for everything you need, except your new books and school-supplies once a year." The old goblin explained. "Regarding the rest of the inheritance, the only vault you are allowed to access at the moment, is your trust vault; I will have someone bring you there."

* * *

A harrowing cart ride later, which Daphne seemed to enjoy for some reason, they reached the Greengrass vault. It was filled to the brim with galleons, as well as works of art, craft and even a few old weapons.

Another ride later, much shorter, thankfully, they reached Harry's vault. Harry and the goblin opened the vault by putting their hands on it, seeing as Harry did not have the key.

The vault was a lot smaller than the one of the Greengrass family, but the amount, of golden, silver and bronze coins it contained was still staggering. Harry took a handful of coins, put it into the bag he had been given by Silversight and left the vault behind.

The young Goblin by the name of Griphook, who had shown them to their vaults, ushered them back into the cart and they made the small ride back to the surface in only a few minutes. Shortly thereafter, the family, plus Harry, was back in the blazing, August sunlight. First order of business was the local bookshop, _Flourish and Blotts_ , to buy their books for first year. Further stops were an apothecary, to get all their supplies for potions and a general store so they could get trunks. The trunks were great, both outfitted with three compartments, one of them a library compartment to hold all their books.

Then, the stop they had both been waiting for came - the wand-maker.

"Most Hogwarts students go to Ollivander's, but my family swears on Cephalopos wands. It does not always work out, but mostly it does." Xander explained. "Ollivander matches a wand to a wizard, but Cephalopos makes the wand especially for the witch or wizard." They made their way to a dingy side-street off the alley, past a number of rather obscure looking shops, not dark, just obscure, until they reached a small shop. It had a small sign saying _Cephalopos Wands_ and a surprisingly new-looking door. The group entered the shop and was greeted by a young man, steely-eyed and with dark, black hair.

"Lord Greengrass, delightful to see you. Are you here for your daughter's wand?" He asked them in an airy, mysterious voice, completely fitting his appearance.

"Yes, Mr. Cephalopos, and for our ward Harry's, as well. I expect you will give them the same "history talk" I received from your father?" Xander asked, while smirking.

"Of course, it is crucial!" The wand-maker agreed, smiling a little. Then, he turned towards Harry and Daphne and started what Harry assumed was his "history talk": "some generations ago, my ancestors discovered even the fitting ingredients will react to the presence of a matched magic core. If we find the correct ingredients, then I can make you a custom-made wand, tailored to your needs."

"Fascinating. But if this is so great, why aren't all wands made like this?" Daphne commentated.

"Well, Ms. Greengrass, you're a smart one. There are some problems with this. First, as the process requires more, and different components, my wands are usually more expensive than the ones made by Ollivander. Secondly, even if the components match the wizard, they don't always match each other. Therefore, sometimes the wand does not work well and we have to try again. If you combine these problems, some of the less fortunate families can't afford my services," he concluded, and smiled at them, as if saying it was no problem for the Greengrasses, of course.

"Now, Ms. Greengrass, would you like to start?" He invited her over to a table filled with an assortment of pieces of wood in all colours. "Please, lay your hand on these samples, and we'll see which fit you."

Harry watched her walk to the table and lay her hands on the different samples. Two times, a light warmth flooded the room, the first time at a greyish wood, the second time at an almost white sample. The wand-maker shot a curious glance at Daphne, then led her over to another table, this one stacked with a number of glass containers he now opened and motioned for Daphne to touch. This time, the strange warmth flooded the room only once, when Daphne touched a gorgeous red and gold coloured feather.

"Well, Ms. Greengrass, that is quite the combination: Spruce and willow with a phoenix-feather core. A powerful wand, no questions there, quite suited for healing magic. Maybe, also a drama queen…" He finished, chuckling a little.

"Mr. Potter, your turn." He beckoned. Harry was led over to the wood table and started touching the various samples. Three times it felt like warmth was spreading through his whole body: Two very bright woods, and a middle-brown one. Cephalopos' eyes widened at the last wood, obviously surprised.

As he did with Daphne, he led Harry over to the table with the core samples. Here, the tingling warmth occurred when he touched a small sliver of what looked like horn and the second was when Harry was not able to actually _see_ what he was touching.

At this point, the wand-maker was looking very interested. "Very, very curious. Ash, aspen and elder. The cores are a silver from the horn of a horned serpent and Thestral tail hair. This is a fascinating wand, I have to say. Ash makes for very loyal wands, for wizards true to their beliefs, courageous, maybe a little stubborn. Aspen is quite suited to martial magic, duelling and the like. Elder, well, that is something very different: It chooses a wizard marked out for great destiny, a special fate. It is family tradition, to never charge someone, who is chosen by wood from the elder tree. As for your cores, thestral tail hair and horned serpent horn. Thestral hair, we don't know much about. Are you, by chance, a parselmouth? It would fit the other core quite well."

As Harry nodded, Cephalopos continued, "Yes, I thought so. You will be able to communicate with your wand in an unusual way, way more directly than most wizards."

"Thank you, Mr. Cephalopos, but really, I can pay for my wand," Harry tried to convince him.

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter. Your wands will be ready in three days. And I will not disgrace my ancestors' tradition and accept payment from you, understood?" As he received Harry's reluctant nod, he shook their hands and led them to the door.

The next stop was the _Magical Menagerie_ , so they could get Harry's birthday present. When the group entered the shop, they were greeted by a cacophony of different hisses, screeches, meows and every other animal sound imaginable.

Harry, closely followed by Daphne, strolled through the aisles and looked at all the pets on display.

"I think, an owl would be good, don't you?" He asked Daphne, unsure what sort of animal to get.

"An owl would be good, they carry letters. We could write to mom and dad when we are at Hogwarts," Daphne suggested.

To Harry, it seemed very reasonable and the ability to send letters with his own owl seemed like a good thing to him, so he started to look more closely at the owls. One of them drew his attention in particular: It was a large, majestic bird, more than half a meter tall, with two ear-like appendages on its head. The amber eyes seemed to look right through Harry's emerald ones and gazing into the back of his mind.

"This one," he declared, beyond any doubt.

"A good choice." Harry was startled by a voice from behind him and Daphne. An old woman came bustling towards, and then through the two of them towards the large owl. She returned with the bird on her arm, prompting Harry to extend his own. As he did, the owl hopped from the shop-keeper's to Harry's outstretched arm.

"He is a European eagle owl, and quite a handsome one, I'd say. They are not the easiest birds, but it seems he likes you, so I think you should have no problems with him. Quite a large one, as you can see and he isn't yet fully grown. No problems with heavy loads or bad weather up in Scotland. I assume you go to Hogwarts."

"Yes, ma'am, I am," Harry answered, while looking at the owl on his arm. With a huge smile on his face, they returned to Xander and Eleanor. Xander also got Harry's owl a cage, food and they left the shop.

Outside, they looked at each other, trying to decide whether to stay or leave.

Xander took charge of the situation and asked," Does anyone still have something to do?"

This was the moment Harry had been waiting for. "Yes, I have. And it is a secret, so it would be great if only you could come with me, if that's alright."

* * *

AN: Well, I am writing them quickly at the moment. I now have two betas who work to correct my interpunctuation and other, blatant, mistakes, I make. We will work to correct all those pesky little mistakes that get into the text.

Also, thank you to my betas – Haphne24 and bibobobonnor.

And to all of you: Thank you for your support. I would appreciate for you to leave a review.

Happy New Year!


	8. Chapter 8: Wonky Weasel Thoughts

**Chapter 8: Wonky Weasel Thoughts & Plans**

Ronald Weasley was in a bad mood; Ever since his father had indicated, that he would invite Harry Potter and the Greengrass family over for afternoon-tea, his grumpiness had increased day by day. He didn't know why they had to let _that_ family into their house. You just couldn't trust a Slytherin, and that's exactly what they were, each and every one of them, their daughter would be no exception.

Considering the overall untrustworthiness of the family, Ron had no idea, why his father and the Ministry had allowed them to take in Harry Potter. Clearly, he should have come to the Burrow instead of the house of some dark family. And, he could have become friends with _Harry Potter_. That would have made him stand out from his brothers.

But no, he was living with _them_. Even worse, neither of his parents seemed to care: His father liked Xander Greengrass and his mother, while not convinced the Greengrasses were _good_ , was ready to give them the benefit of the doubt. Everyone knew you just couldn't trust a Slytherin. Potter should have come to the Burrow instead and they would have been best friends. He, being best friends with _the_ Harry Potter would have allowed him to finally stand out from his brothers.

It annoyed Ron to no end, and that was disregarding the state his sister had been in the last few days. All the stories of The-Boy-Who-Lived had obviously gotten to her and she had developed a major crush on the boy, without even knowing him. His baby sister had a crush. That was something he would not accept. So, instead of hanging around with him, she had spent an increasing amount of time locked up in her room, reading her old Harry Potter books and writing Merlin-knows-what in her stupid diary. He could deal with her later. For now, he was determined he would help Potter see the darkness of his hosts. After showing the light to Potter, he would then move to the Burrow and they would be best friends.

In the end though, Ron was nothing if not determined; He would help Harry Potter see the darkness of his hosts, then he would come to live at the Burrow and would be safe. With Ginny he could deal later.

* * *

Ginny was sitting in her room, anxiously waiting for the afternoon when her house would be visited by The-Boy-Who-Lived. From the moment, her father had told her he would come, she had dreamed about him how she could show him around the Burrow and the orchard maybe take him swimming in the stream.

She was sure the Burrow was not up to what he was used to as a hero of the wizarding world, but she still hoped he would like it and maybe even come back from time to time. However, she didn't share her brother's delusions about him coming to live with them. He was probably living in a palace, she thought, with an army of servants. No way would he exchange that for the Burrow. Neither did she think that the family he lived with was dark, because _Harry Potter_ just couldn't be living with a dark family. Impossible! Fed up with Ron's ramblings, she had retreated to her room and wrote in her diary how she would make Harry love her.

* * *

Harry had just finished tidying up his room, as was custom to do with the children in the Greengrass clan. The house-elves just lacked the time and he was told it built character.

This afternoon, they were invited to the Burrow for tea. Harry had been told that Arthur Weasley had been the one to tip-off Professor McGonagall about the situation in Privet Drive, which Harry was incredibly thankful for. He was looking forward to meeting this man, who had played such an important role in liberating him from his aunt and uncle's _care_. Furthermore, the Weasleys were supposed to have a bunch of kids, and while Harry liked to spend time with Tori and loved to spend time with Daphne, he was looking forward to meeting some other children for a change. The youngest Weasley son was about Harry's age, so maybe there was the possibility of a new friendship there. The only girl was a little older than Tori and would attend Hogwarts the year after Harry and Daphne, also a possible friend. Finally, there were the older Weasley children, already in, or even finished with, Hogwarts. From the older children, Harry hoped to learn a little more about his future school, because all the adults he had asked about it had been less than forthcoming especially about the sorting. Even if it weren't for all these people, Harry was just excited to be able to see another wizarding home, and quite a different one, if he had heard right.

* * *

Just across the hall, Daphne was sitting at her desk. Her thoughts turned to the coming afternoon. She was looking forward to meeting a few more people from outside of the usual circles of her family and their allies, and these Weasleys should be a delightful bunch. Still, she was also worried. The youngest of the Weasley boys was exactly her age and she feared that he would rather be friends with a boy. The rest of the family she felt more positively about, especially the father, after all he had delivered news of Harry's mistreatment to McGonagall and her father. She would squeeze the older boys for information on the sorting.

That afternoon, the group met around the fireplace and her father smiled at them.

"Okay, now we are there as guests, so please behave accordingly. The floo address is _The Burrow_ ," and with a last "see you there", he vanished, whirling in the green flames. He was followed by her sister, squealing in delight. For some reason, Tori immensely enjoyed floo-travel. Tori and floo travel were a little like she was with the Gringotts carts, Daphne thought and stepped up to the fireplace.

"The Burrow," She intoned clearly, deliberately, and whirled away inside the green flames. She gracefully landed on her feet and quickly moved to the side, awaiting Harry's graceless entry any moment. Less than half a minute later, he stumbled out of the fire. To his credit, he stayed on his feet this time, so he was getting better. He was followed by her mother and the whole family was finally there.

As one, they turned towards their hosts and took in the Weasleys. Arthur Weasley, just as she remembered was a tall, balding man with red hair. Molly Weasley was a redhead as well, with a matronly figure and an inviting smile. Only her eyes told of her wariness towards their visitors. They were treated to a group of redheaded children. There was a rather tall, thin boy around fifteen who stared at her father unabashedly. Then there were the twins, because there was no doubt about that when looking at them: Orange-red hair, freckles and the same exact face with the same exact devious smile, twice. The youngest Weasley boy glared at them except at Harry. The sole Weasley girl's gaze was on Harry as he was prize to win and Daphne saw the creeped-out expression on Harry's face even if he was doing his best to retain a neutral expression. Daphne, for her part, had an idea about what was going on with the youngest Weasley, but decided to keep it to herself for the moment.

She was so focused on her observations, that she nearly missed her turn in the round of introductions going on. Snapping back to awareness at just the right moment, she shook the hand she was offered by Mr. Weasley and responded to his greeting, the same with his wife. The oldest boy present, for some reason he was wearing a prefect's badge on his shirt, mostly ignored her.

Then, she came to the twins. "Hello, Daphne Greengrass, nice to meet you," she introduced herself.

"Hello, Daphne Greengrass, nice to meet you too," they reciprocated in a perfect unison, that made her head spin.

"We're Gred…" one of them said.

"…and Forge," the other one completed, making her head spin even more. Obviously enjoying the chaos they induced when behaving like this, the twins sniggered and moved on to Harry.

Next, Daphne came to the youngest boy. She held out her hand for him to shake, but he just stood there, arms crossed and looked at her with contempt.

"Hello, I'm Daphne Greengrass, nice to meet you," she tried again.

"Ron Weasley," he answered gruffly, and he, too, moved on to Harry with way more enthusiasm.

For her last introduction, she moved over to the only Weasley girl, who she secretly hoped could be a friend to her sister, someone outside of the usual crowd, like Harry was to her. Well maybe not exactly like it, but a little.

"Hi, I'm Daphne," she told the girl in front of her, snapping her out of a daydream the girl had obviously had.

"Hey, I'm Ginny," the youngest Weasley introduced herself, still a little distractedly.

Stepping to the side after finishing all the introductions, Daphne watched as Harry drew nearer to Ginny, who became visibly agitated. As Harry reached her and held out his hand, she froze and, looked at him in slight shock and her cheeks grew increasingly flush.

"Hi, I'm Harry, Harry Potter," he announced in a friendly voice. Instead of an answer, Ginny turned tomato-red, let out a squeal and fled up the stairs, leaving behind a bemused Harry, staring at the spot previously occupied by the youngest Weasley.

Without further mention of the incident, the group was led to a small, slightly shabby sitting room where tea awaited them. Everyone sat down in a somewhat tense silence, while Molly Weasley started filling their cups.

"Ron, I hear this will be your first year too," Daphne tried to break the ice, with what she hoped was a safe topic. Every child liked talking about Hogwarts, right?

"Yes, why do you care," came the answer in a reproachful voice, earning Ron a glare from his mother. Some more moments of uncomfortable silence followed, interrupted only by clinking silverware and people slurping tea.

"Wow, the mood in here is…"

"...really depressing," the twins resumed their earlier antics, which Daphne was grateful for.

"Just a little bit," she conceded with a smile," I hear you can tell me a lot about Hogwarts, especially the, let's say, less known parts of the castle. If, in fact, you are _the_ Weasley twins," she continued, earning a small snigger from the two.

"Fair lady, I am happy you know of our good reputation," at this, the Weasley matriarch scoffed a little," has reached you," one of the twins and both initiated a ridiculously deep bow.

"Through our time," the other twin continued," we have indeed learned many of the hidden parts of the castle, while running from Filch. Unlawfully pursued, every time of course," a twin said eliciting a small sigh from his mother, who obviously wanted her sons to be something else than pranksters extraordinaire.

"We would be delighted to…" the first twin now spoke again, but was rudely interrupted by his brother.

"You would be delighted to what? Show her around, tell her about pranking? You've never offered that to me, now you offer it to the snake?" Ron now accused his brother, every attempt at civility completely forgotten.

"Dear brother, you never asked!" one of the twins now shot back, clearly annoyed by how his little brother was acting. Without another word, Ron got up and stormed up the stairs, fuming. A few moments later, they heard the banging of a door.

"Mr. Greengrass, I do have to apologize for my siblings and their childish behaviour. Rest assured, not everyone in this family is like that. I hear you work at the auror office?" Percy now spoke up, using a voice that was so obviously used for boot-licking that it made Daphne sick. She recognized that tone of voice, and so did her father.

"That is no problem, Percy. After all, they still _are_ children, and are allowed their fair share of childish behaviour," her father answered the pompous boy, in a polite yet cold tone she had heard from him before, when dealing with suck-ups. "And yes, you heard right, I am, indeed, an auror, but my position is not very high," he now told Percy, who looked decidedly unhappy about it.

The hosts and guests made some meaningless small-talk, and then Fred and George asked Harry and Daphne if they wanted to go for some broom riding. Harry and Daphne were given two old brooms, the older Weasley brothers' old ones, and instructed on their usage.

"You lay them beside you…"

"…and you say 'up'," they said.

So, Daphne and Harry had laid the brooms next to them, and both said, "Up!" Harry's broom had immediately risen into his hands, her broom had been more hesitant. After about five tries, delivered with increasing annoyance, she just shouted, "up!" and was hit by the handle in the shoulder.

Scowling at the chuckling group of boys, she mumbled, "It came up, didn't it? Could have been worse, like, if it hit the face and not the shoulder…"

They spent about an hour on the brooms first hovering on spot and, after getting acquainted, flying around cautiously. At least, that was what Daphne did. Harry, on the other hand, soared happily through the skies the first moment he sat on the broom. The totally free, absolutely happy look on his face warmed her heart, and while Daphne didn't particularly enjoy flying, his joy made her deliriously happy.

* * *

The following morning, Daphne awoke, still happy. Between her mixed feelings about the previous day's visit with the Weasleys, it was nice to be just simply ecstatic about something and her birthday had never disappointed in that regard.

She showered, dressed diligently and made her way towards the dining room, giddy with excitement. At the table, she was awaited by her parents, her sister, and her best friend. Waiting with them was a pile of presents, considerably larger than the one Harry had received earlier that week. She was a little sorry for that, considering what a nice guy Harry was, he should really have more than that.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" She was greeted by her mother," Happy Birthday!"

This prompted everyone, including an extremely uncomfortable looking Harry, to sing for her. Daphne felt her face redden. After the song had finished, they sat down for breakfast, this time with all of Daphne's favourites. Having eaten her fill, she turned towards her presents.

"Now, princess, start with ours," her father handed her a small, heavy package. She opened it, to find a nice, silver picture frame. It was empty, except for a pure black background. Questioningly, she looked at her father.

"Well, after your present for Harry, we thought you might like something like this. It is a picture frame, that can change its picture," he explained. With a chuckle, he added, "after all, we give presents that we secretly want ourselves, don't we?"

With his explanation, Daphne was extremely happy. It was true, while she had been working on Harry's present; she had indeed thought how great it would be to have something like that with her at Hogwarts. That her father had realized this only increased the worth this present would hold for her. With wet eyes, she looked at her father and nodded.

"Thanks, daddy," she managed to utter.

"Mine next," the emotional situation was interrupted by her eager little sister, Tori, who handed her nothing at first," For my present, I gave you Harry's journal. We both know how very much you dislike potions. With that journal in reach, at least you'll always have some useful notes for revision." She giggled and grinned at Daphne, a wink indicating that she was only partly serious.

"Very funny, little sis. Now, although your idea for the journal is great, what did you really get me?" she asked her sister, a smile gracing her face at her sister's antics.

"The bit about the journal was partly true; I do think it will be great for both of you. But, if you're gonna hang around this one," she indicated Harry, a mock frown on her face," you'll want to have some way to blow of some steam. Therefore, this."

She handed Daphne a big, rattling box adorned with garishly coloured wrapping paper and an oversized bow. Opening it, Daphne found an assortment of joke articles: There was nearly everything, from fireworks to stink-bombs. She waited for the glares from her parents at her sister to pass, then she turned towards her sister and smiled thankfully.

"Thank you, Tori! And don't underestimate Harry here, I have the feeling there is a mischievous, pranky streak somewhere in there," after a look at Harry and her sister's questioning faces, she added," deep down…"

With a chuckle, she turned towards Harry and looked at him expectantly. His face was a little unsure, and he squirmed under her gaze. Then, he got a small, mischievous smile.

"My present to you, in coordination with your sister, is a promise to always help you with potions; we both know you need it," he joked, as if trying to prove he indeed had a mischievous streak, but Daphne realized, that he was very nervous about his present. She decided to set him at ease by picking up his banter.

"Well, in that case, thank you very much. And in return, I promise to always take you down a peck, if you get a little full of yourself," she said, in mock-seriousness. Harry was more at ease now, if only, because he was distracted.

"Here, this is from me," he said, and handed her a small, black box. Daphne opened it to look at a small, silver locket. On one side, it displayed the Greengrass crest, a fess shield of green, with a crown and a crescent, and on the other side, it displayed the Potter crest.

"I… I thought this could stand for… us… as friends," Harry stuttered out.

At first, Daphne was unable to speak. She was completely surprised by the gift, never having gotten something like this. Maybe, she rationalized he didn't know what a gift like this meant, but still, putting both their crests on both sides meant he believed in their continuing friendship. Without another word, she flung herself into Harry's arms and, only with a small flinch, Harry reciprocated. She felt his arms wrap tightly around her and she laid her head comfortably on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Harry! I love my present; it is great," she said, putting all of her considerable thankfulness for his present in her voice. Despite the small snickers coming from the direction of Tori, Harry and Daphne stayed and enjoyed their hug for a bit more, before finally releasing their hold on one another, both with red faces as they looked at her parents. Her father was looking at her with his eyebrows raised while her mother was smirking.

Daphne's further presents were less elaborate, some books - one on politics from her uncle Adalbert Greengrass, who had a seat on the Wizengamot, and one named _The Pureblood Directory_ by her great-aunt Amalda. It was on the remaining pureblood families, and it was her least favourite present. Some more books, and some assorted candy later, Daphne had opened all her presents.

With a content sigh, she looked at the pile of presents and at the people sitting at the table with her. In former years, she had always had a big birthday party, with many children from the other noble families in attendance. Having never really enjoyed the custom, as the company it brought with it just didn't suit her; she had less desire than ever to have such a gathering this time. She just wanted to spend the day with her family, with Harry and her presents. Just as Daphne had wished, they spent the rest of the day together.

* * *

Just as Daphne had wished, they spent the rest of the day together, with an enjoyable and considerable amount of time spent with teaching Harry the intricacies of exploding snap. To him, the constant danger of losing one's eyebrows certainly added to the thrill of the game.

After a particularly gruelling round, which proved to be fatal for Leo, the family cat's whiskers, they moved on to wizarding chess, Harry and Daphne versus Tori. However, their numerical advantage proved to be irrelevant, as the little rascal played with a deviousness and foresight unfitting for her age. This was soon mirrored in the chess pieces' mood.

"No, not me, I am way more important than that one," one of Harry and Daphne's white pawns exclaimed, pointing at the castle. The white king was in check, and the only way to end it, was to move either the pawn, or the castle in the way of the evilly smirking black queen. The smirk, Harry now noticed bore a striking resemblance to Tori, sitting across from him and Daphne, who had the same look on her face as her queen.

"Pawn, to F4," Daphne reiterated the order, and with a great sigh, the figurine marched towards the indicated square, only to be momentarily smashed to pieces by the laughing queen.

"You know, I kind of find her thirst for blood a little disconcerting," Harry commented, indicating towards the still laughing figurine, which was now happily twirling the sceptre, with which the enemy was slain, around.

"I know what you mean, Harry," Daphne answered and signalized for Harry to enter a small huddle with her for some much needed strategy talk. A few minutes later they, returned their attention towards the board, a small, wicked smile graced their features as they were anxious to try their strategy.

"Castle, to F4," Harry intoned, and, after the move had concluded, he added," Check!"

They game wound on for a few more turns, until the crucial point came. It was time to sacrifice the knight, to gain the winning advantage.

"Knight, to D5," Daphne ordered the shivering white knight, which was summarily slain by an especially vindictive black bishop.

"Queen, to D5," Harry said.

Watching the turn play out, Tori's constant smirk turned first into a frown and then into astonishment as Daphne continued," check mate!"

The black king took his crown, walked over towards Harry and Daphne and, in a fit of rage suited to a small child, threw it on the table hard enough to break it. Harry looked at Daphne, her face mirroring the same elation he felt at their teamwork finally playing out.

"Great you two. And it only took you, what, eight games," Tori interrupted with a smile.

The rest of the day played out in similar fashion, including four more games of chess, so Tori could make her number of wins an even dozen and more soon than anyone had expected it was time for supper and soon after, time for bed.

* * *

The remaining days until the 1st of September flew by. Most of them were very much the same as the ones they had spent in the manor before, sometimes as a trio and sometimes only Harry and one of the girls, or even completely alone, when he felt like it. The choice of being alone, without having to flee to a dusty old library, was something new and extremely enjoyable to Harry.

Soon however, it was the last day of August, which meant it was time to prepare. While dropping of a large amount of cleaned clothes at his room, he and the Greengrass ladies had been to muggle London, where Harry enjoyed having his own money to spend on things, he was stopped by Tori. She had grown increasingly moody the closer the day of Harry and Daphne's departure had come. Now, she was looking at him sadly, obviously very reluctant to let them go away and stay alone with her parents. Or, rather her mother, as Xander was to be away on assignment.

"Hey Harry," she started in a solemn voice," how is packing coming along?"

"Good," he answered, not sure where this conversation was leading, as she could clearly see through the open door of his room, that these were the last things to pack before he was ready for the trip to King's Cross. "What is it, Tori?" he asked the distraught looking girl.

"It's just… I don't… I don't want you and Daphne to go," she responded, trying her best to stare holes into the floor as she spoke. "I know you promised to write, but it's not the same. What if you meet all new friends there and forget about me?" she inquired dejectedly, in a voice so sad and small it broke Harry's heart.

"Look, Tori; I don't know if we'll be able to write all the time, but won't forget you, I promise. And in two years, you'll go there too," he said, in what he hoped was a sincere and consoling tone. Tori gave him a huge hug and left his room.

That night, sleep did not come easily to Harry, as he worried about the girl he had come to regard as a mixture between friend and little sister.

* * *

AN: Hello all,

I hope your new year started quite well.

Thank you to my great Beta haphne24, who actually thought of the headig for this chapter, as I was completely clueless about how to call it.

Thanks, of course to you all as my readers, too. If the chess sequence weirded you out a little, don't be concerned, it won't become standard occurrence. However, bear in mind the following: If it is there, it is important.

Have a nice start to work and classes, or whatever you're up to.

alexandertheII


	9. Chapter 9: Welcome to Hogwarts

**Chapter 9: Welcome to Hogwarts**

In the dark dungeons of Hogwarts castle, the potions master was sitting in his office, examining the list of incoming students. Without doubt, he would receive another new class of imbeciles and dunderheads, hell bent on blowing up his classroom and killing every last occupant. He sighed, as his eyes roamed over the names. His nostrils widened, as his eyes were drawn toward one particular name.

 _Harry Potter_

Without even knowing him, he already loathed the spawn of James Potter. Without a doubt, he would be even more pampered, even more big-headed than his father before him.

* * *

On the morning of September 1st, Harry awoke early, giddy with excitement at the prospect of finally seeing Hogwarts. Although he was in a good mood, he could not overlook his worry about leaving Tori home alone. Mulling over his mixed feelings, he rose from his bed and started to dress. He had chosen his attire for the day very diligently: It was the same outfit he had worn on the day of the Ministry hearing. Harry found it to be somewhat fitting, considering it was the first ever clothes he had had of his own. His movements stirred the snake that had curled up at the corner of the bed. It slithered down the bed post towards the floor, and coiled upwards around Harry's leg.

"Goooddd morning, Ssspeaker," Ouroboros said, with a flick of his tongue to finish off the greeting.

"Good morning, Ouroborosss," he reciprocated, stroking the snake's triangular head," I'm sssorry I can't take you with me, I would love to be able to have you with me there."

"I knowww, sspeaker," the snake answered, a sadness in his voice that was surprising, coming from a snake," I think, it isss time for you to go towardsss your huuuman meal."

Harry did exactly that, and soon the entire family was seated around the kitchen table, richly filled with a wide assortment of what seemed like breakfast for thrice as many people. Apparently, Nibbles was determined to make the children miss even the food at home.

When they finished with breakfast, Harry and Daphne went upstairs to retrieve their things and the whole group met in front of the floo.

"We'll floo to the _Leaky Cauldron_ , from there we will take muggle cabs to King's Cross Station," Xander explained their itinerary as the fireplace took him away. This time Harry even managed to stay upright when he was spewed out into the pub, making Daphne and Tori just a little cross at decreasing the fun they had watching him at it.

Before soon, they had split up into two groups and managed to stow away the two large trunks into the boot of the cars, while the owl, to the utter consternation of the cab driver, accompanied Harry and Daphne to the passenger compartment.

"Harry, have you thought of a name for him?" she suddenly asked Harry, who was looking out of the window solemnly. This led to some pondering on his part, as he had indeed considered quite a number of names, but somehow, he always returned to the eagle owl's funny ears.

"I'll name him Auriculus," he answered, and added in explanation," I found it in a book on Latin; it means little ear. Actually, it would be auriculum, but as he is male it is Auriculus."

He watched Daphne ponder the name and sighed in relief at her amused smile.

"I approve," she said in mock generosity. "What a great name for an owl with such adorable little feather ears."

Staring out of the window, she silently continued," Harry, are you worried about Tori, too?"

Her sad, worried eyes turned to Harry, as if penetrating him to the core. Her expression showed him how much she would miss her home and her sister.

"It's just, she doesn't have many friends, at least outside of the usual Slytherin circles," further intensifying her gaze, although Harry had no idea that was still possible, she added," she doesn't have anyone like you. She needs that…" she trailed off, looking a little sheepish, ears turning red. Harry just nodded and reassured her it would be fine.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, as each of the children was kept by their own thoughts. When they reached King's Cross, the station was nearly empty, as it was a Sunday. The group unloaded the trunks, placed them on luggage-trolleys and made their way into the station. Inside, they could see a number of other families with huge trunks and pets. He wondered how the muggles were able to overlook the obviously strange goings-on in their train station.

Finally, they had reached the wall between platforms nine and ten.

"Children, it is very simple. You take your luggage, and you walk straight through the wall between the platforms. If you want, you can run a little, but better just walk, less conspicuous for the muggles," Eleanor explained.

With trepidation written on their faces, Harry and Daphne started walking towards the seemingly solid wall. As they got closer and closer and a collision started to really worry Harry, they suddenly found themselves on another platform. Smoke billowed around them they could hear a number of owls screeching, cats meowing or hissing, students chatting or calling out names, and even some silent sniffles of younger students giving a heartfelt goodbye to the parents they would not see until at least the winter break.

With so much to take in, the two friends almost forgot to move out of the way for Tori and the Greengrass parents. It was almost out of sheer luck that Tori didn't run into them. After a few more seconds, the group was joined by Xander and Eleanor and they started on their way towards some of the rear carts, which would be not as full.

"We're rather early, so if you want, we can stay outside for a while, while you look for a compartment. Is that acceptable to you?" Xander asked, indicating the already open doors of the long train. They both nodded and with a little help from Xander, lifted the trunks into the luggage rack of the first empty compartment they could find. Having reserved a place to sit and gotten rid of their burden, they re-joined the others waiting outside; it was time for goodbyes. This was a moment Harry had been waiting for and dreading all the same. He wanted to show the Greengrasses his appreciation for letting him stay, but what he had planned would take a lot of him. Therefore, he started with the easiest one who was Tori.

"I'll miss you, Tori," he simply stated, watching the younger girl slightly tear up at the prospect of letting him and Daphne go. He took a step towards her, and to her obvious confusion, took her into his arms. "We'll write, I promise," he whispered into her ear. As he let Tori go, he could see her wiping away a few tears, clandestinely of course, before she turned towards her sister.

Now it was time for the two harder farewells. Fearing his courage would leave him, he stepped forward and encircled first Xander and then Eleanor in a small, short hug. From their faces, he could see that even such a short one meant a lot to them, and he was glad to have brought up the courage for it.

"Thank you, for letting me stay with you and for the clothes," he said, his voice cracking.

"You're very welcome, Harry," Eleanor answered, a small smile accompanying her slightly wet eyes.

"You're welcome indeed. And thank you, for lending us your living rodent-repellent," Xander joked. His jovial tone, though, could not hide how moved he was by the unexpected farewell from Harry. And Harry knew it meant a lot to the man even if he still had dry eyes.

So, without another word, Harry boarded the train, sat in their compartment and waited for Daphne to finish saying goodbye to her parents. When she did finally join him, her eyes were watery and without a word, she walked over to him and cuddled into his side. They stayed like this for quite some time, watching the hustle and bustle on the platform. There were groups of older students, huddled together. They saw one boy with dreadlocks holding a carton with what seemed like a giant spider, another boy, probably a first-year as well, running around panicky, shouting for "Trevor" and a small family in fine robes, hair platinum blond. As Daphne indicated this family to Harry, she silently advised him," be careful around that one, name's Draco Malfoy. Dad said his father was a servant of you-know-who. No idea, why he was never punished, though."

This was something, Harry could simply not understand: From what he knew, Voldemort was about as bad a person as possible, and surely his servants were not much better. How one of them could go unpunished, just didn't make sense to him.

A few minutes later, they finally saw someone they knew. At almost eleven, meaning nearly late, a large group of redheads made their way onto the platform. In the front, proudly strutting was Percy, a shiny badge, which Daphne told Harry was a prefect's badge, already pinned to his jumper. Behind him followed the rest of the bulk, minus the twins, who had obviously gone off. The family was in the middle of an argument, as Harry could hear.

"But mum, I want to see him," he could hear Ginny's small voice break through the clamour outside.

"He is not a zoo animal, Ginny. I am sure this was a trying morning for him, he doesn't need you ogling him now," Molly Weasley told her daughter, her annoyed tone making it obvious how often she had already had the same discussion over the course of the morning.

"Why do you want to see him anyway?" they now heard Ron's angry voice," he's probably hanging around with that damn snake again, anyway."

"Oh, shut up," he was interrupted by Ginny's angry voice, before the sound of the argument was again obscured by the chaos of voices and pets outside.

"Hello, are these seats taken?" they were suddenly interrupted in their observation of the outside, by another voice _inside_ the train. The two of them immediately disentangled from each other, and turned their heads towards the compartment door. There stood a girl, probably a first year two. She had bushy brown hair, a small overbite and a slight air of bossiness around her.

Daphne was the first to wake from her stupor. She indicated the free seats across from Harry and her and said in an inviting tone, "no, they're all free, please take a seat."

Harry watched as the girl brought in her luggage and then tried to heave it onto the luggage rack. Seeing as she failed miserably, because the trunk was so much bigger than her, they jumped up to help. With their combined efforts, they managed to get the trunk situated on the rack nicely and sat down, the new girl across from them.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Daphne Greengrass, nice to meet you," Daphne introduced herself to the girl. As Hermione heard the surname, her eyes widened a little in recognition, and if Harry was not mistaken, her face paled slightly. Obviously, the Greengrass family had a reputation he was not aware of.

As she turned towards Harry, he braced himself for the introduction and the inevitably following questioning. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter," he told her, and while he did so, he could observe her eyes widening to a degree that outstripped her former expression by lengths.

"Really, you are? I've read all about you there is of course… _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Modern Magical History, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ …" she trailed off, her face becoming a little red," I read a few extra books, just as background," she explained in a small voice, almost as if reading ahead was a crime.

"Oh, so you're muggleborn?" Daphne asked.

"Yes," Hermione answered, giving Daphne a slightly fearful look, as if expecting her to attack any moment. Harry would have to ask Daphne about her family's reputation soon.

"That must be so fascinating," his friend now exclaimed, prompting the look of fear on Hermione's face to be replaced by utter bewilderment," I mean, coming from the muggle world, never having seen magic before. It must be so incredible to be able to experience magic as something completely new!"

"Yes, it is," Hermione answered, obviously still a little confused," but, shouldn't you, I don't know, not like me?"

"I see you've read a lot," Daphne concluded with a sad voice," yes, many of my family would look down on you, but you won't have that problem with me, or my parents or my sister."

"Oh, thank you," Hermione responded her worries obviously abated.

They talked for a while, waiting for the train to finally set in motion and continued to talk even after they had left the station.

Harry watched the scenery fly by, first city and then rural areas, until the girls came to a topic that actually interested him.

"What house do you think you will get into?" Hermione asked the two of them inquisitively.

"Well, I think I'll be in Slytherin, just like the rest of the family. But who knows?" she answered, a slight frown prominent on her features.

"No idea, I think everything will be okay," Harry piped in. His only real fear was, not being chosen. He knew it was not rational, but he couldn't help but feel worried.

"Well, of course I don't know either, but you hear the best about Gryffindor," Hermione exclaimed, further deepening the frown on Daphne's face.

"Where did you hear that?" she asked in consternation. As Harry knew, she did not like Slytherin much, but also found the regard in which Gryffindor was held widely to be somewhat ridiculous. "The _best_ house, is the one, where you actually fit in, not the one that is the most respected, or gives the greatest career-prospects. That is a rather Slytherin way to think actually, very cunning," she continued with a smirk. This seemed to have a profound effect on Hermione, as for a few seconds her face became blank, and Harry could see she was thinking about what had been said.

Their musings were cut short, when the door of the compartment slid open and in came Draco Malfoy, flanked by two large boys, who seemed suspiciously like bodyguards.

"Did I hear right?" he asked," All around the train, people say, Harry Potter is in this compartment?"

"Yes, I am," Harry answered, and looked at the three boys in the door. Draco was a pale boy, and between his huge, thickset friends he looked rather small.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," he indicated the two mean-looking boys beside him," and I am Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Daphne let out a small sigh at his pompous introduction. She had told him about this boy, and obviously, her expectations were not disappointed.

"Greengrass, how very _nice_ to see you here," he said acidly, turning towards her, fixing her with an icy stare.

"Malfoy," she reciprocated in about the same tone.

Turning back towards Harry, Draco fixed an almost pleasant smile on his face.

"Potter, I see you have at least the foresight to associate with purebloods, but that family is not the best one. I can help you… crank it up a notch," he offered, stretching out his pale hand to Harry. He was disgusted by the self-important boy and his two goons, who had so casually spoken of the "foresight to associate with purebloods". He gave the offered hand a quick glance, before he fixed an icy stare at Malfoy.

"Thank you, Draco. I think I'll manage," he rejected the outstretched hand in a hardly controlled voice.

Draco Malfoy turned a little pink, and in an even colder voice than before he threatened," You better choose your friends a little better in the future, or you might just end the same way as your parents."

Harry had to work hard to keep himself from attacking the boy and his bodyguards. After a short staring contest, Malfoy huffed, turned his face upwards, spun around and his two goons followed him out of the compartment.

"Now _that_ ," Daphne warned," is one of the pure-blooded fanatics you have to look out for. The Malfoys are an old pureblood family, and let's just say they think of themselves as royalty, muggleborns are hardly more than animals to the likes of them."

Hermione nodded insecurely, trepidation written over her face. Harry understood why she was so upset, because he knew how hard it was to be hated for being different. The only irony was that Harry had been hated because he was from a wizarding family, trapped with muggles, and Hermione was now to be looked down upon by the old pureblood-supremacists, for being from a muggle family.

As the shock of Malfoy's visit abated, the trio started chatting again. Harry had been right, Hermione was a little bossy, definitely a know-it-all, but all in a charming fashion. The lengths she would go to help others were demonstrated, when the pudgy boy, who had cried for Trevor, showed up at the compartment door. His name was Neville Longbottom, and it turned out, that Trevor was his toad. He had lost him while bringing his luggage aboard the train and was now looking all over the train for his pet.

"Can we help you search?" Hermione asked him, surprising and delighting both her travel companions and the newcomer.

"Really, you would help?" the surprised boy questioned, completely surprised at being offered help.

"Sure," Daphne chimed in.

They went all over the train looking for the toad and had been completely unsuccessful. They reached a compartment with a familiar face. Ron Weasley was sitting there, together with two other boys.

As Harry opened the compartment door, Ron looked up at him, invitingly. Then, his eyes found his company and he frowned.

"What do you want, Snake?" he snarled, fixing Daphne with an angry glare.

"We're looking for a toad, Neville here lost his. Have you seen it?" she asked, disregarding his rudeness. Ron's eyes widened, as if in surprise about her being nice.

"Not here," he answered curtly and turned away.

After they had left, Daphne turned towards Hermione, looked at her in a meaningful way, and said," That right there was Gryffindor arrogance. His whole family is in Gryffindor and he will be, too."

The group continued to search the train for the toad, but they were unable to locate the amphibian. When they crossed paths with Malfoy and his two goons again, he turned around and hastily made his way back to his compartment. Apparently, he only liked numerical advantage if it was _his_ numerical advantage.

Demoralized by their unsuccessful search for Trevor, Harry, Daphne and Hermione returned to their compartment and their previous conversation, in which they had been interrupted by Neville. This meant Daphne could resume her questioning of Hermione about what exactly her parents did, as she had never heard of dentists before.

Time was flying by, and sooner than expected, Hermione prompted them all to change into their robes. The girls changed first while Harry waited outside and vice versa for Harry.

Not much later, the Hogwarts Express entered a small train-station in a cosy little village. Just as they had been instructed, the students left their luggage in the racks and flooded out onto the platform. To Harry, this was all a little frightening, despite his nervous anticipation and eagerness at finally getting to start to learn magic. Therefore, he kept close to Daphne and their two new friends.

"First years! First years, over here!" he heard a booming voice call over the chatter and noise on the platform. Following the sound with his eyes he saw the largest, and possibly even biggest, man he had ever seen. Considering he had grown up under Vernon Dursley's house, that meant quite something. However, he was better proportioned than Uncle Vernon, Harry thought, as his massive girth somehow matched his incredible length; he stood at least eleven feet tall. The man might have seemed scary, but the face under all of that messy hair and beard looked friendly, the eyes warm.

"First years, first years over here, follow me! Did we forget anyone? Now, mind your step," he announced loudly to no one in particular. The first years followed the giant man along what seemed like a narrow path, all the while slipping and sliding slightly through a dark forest. Soon, they came to the shore of a deep, black lake and for the first time in his life, Harry saw Hogwarts.

The castle sat upon a high mountain on the other side of the lake, the high towers and proud walls a relief before the night's sky filled with stars. Many of the castles myriad windows were bathed in an inviting light that immediately told Harry he could find a home here.

"No more than four on a boat," their guide now instructed, pointing them towards a fleet of small boats the first years now boarded. Daphne had whisperingly informed him that the giant's name was named Hagrid. Harry and Daphne boarded one together with Hermione and Neville. Before any of them had the chance to really absorb the view of the magnificent castle, the boats had set off over the lake. They all had to pull their heads down, when the fleet reached the base of the mountain Hogwarts was built upon and entered a small underground port, where Neville, oddly enough, found his toad again. Leaving the boats behind, the awed group followed Hagrid to the gates. At Hagrid's knock, the gate was opened by none other than Professor McGonagall, the stern teacher who had helped rescue Harry from his relatives. They followed her through a vast entrance hall into a small room, where they were left to anxiously await the impending sorting.

As Harry watched Hermione nervously list up all the spells she already knew, he futilely tried to flatten his hair. The group's worrying about the things they had been told about the _immense_ trials they were up for was rudely interrupted, when a number of pale, translucent people broke through the wall, startling most of them to no end.

Finally, it was time to be led into the hall. Single file, they followed the deputy headmistress into a great hall, where the rest of the student body had already assembled, gathered at four tables. Through his own nervousness, Harry could just make out Hermione telling Neville in front of her about the magic ceiling, that supposedly showed how the sky outside looked. To Harry, it was just plain breathtaking, the sparkling stars at the ceiling. And, of course, there were also the thousands of lit candles, floating in the room and casting a warm light on everything.

The group came to a halt in front of the teachers' table, facing the other students. Harry watched as Professor McGonagall placed a small, four-legged stool with an old, worn wizard's hat on it, in front of the first years. This cluelessness, however, turned to surprise when the hat started to sing.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can_ _cap_ _them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So_ _,_ _try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart._

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil_ _._

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind_ _._

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning_ _folks_ _use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So_ _,_ _put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

As the hat finished its verses, applause broke loose. Over the turmoil, Harry could just make out Ron Weasley cursing his brothers for something they had done to him concerning a troll. However, he could not deny his own relief at how simple the sorting was.

The sorting started and they were each called to the front to put on the hat, which would then shout out the supposedly right house. Harry watched his different peers get sorted but the first name that came up that interested him was Hermione's.

"Hermione Granger," the professor called out and the girl nearly ran over to the stool, enthusiastically placing the hat on her bushy brown hair. Hermione and the Hat looked as if they were leading a silent discussion.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat finally announced its verdict to the whole gathered student body and an entire table broke into applause.

The next name on the list, Harry was even more anxious about especially since she was fidgeting next to him.

"Daphne Greengrass," McGonagall proclaimed. In slow, even steps, Daphne made for the stool, sat on it delicately and elegantly placed the hat on her head. Again, it took several moments for the hat to make his announcement.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry watched as Daphne glumly made her way over to the Slytherin table, wishing there was a way he could help her in this. At that moment, it came to him: What if he were in the same house as her? It wouldn't be too bad, if at least they had each other. He watched as other students were sorted, including the Malfoy boy, who was declared a Slytherin before the hat had even truly settled down and Neville, who became a Gryffindor.

"Harry Potter," the professor called out. Immediately, an aura of whispers and stares filled the whole room, as every face turned toward the small, black-haired boy who made his way towards the hat. Harry was grateful when the oversized hat fell deep enough to obscure his field of vision to keep him away from the prying gazes. All of a sudden, he heard a voice in his head and knew he had been right about Hermione leading an unheard discussion.

"Hmm, now what do we have here?" the voice pondered. "I see courage within you, ambition, you want to prove yourself. And you are loyal to your friends, right? Very enquiring too… But where to put you?"

"Slytherin, please put me into Slytherin," he thought in what he tried to make a pleading voice.

"Please Slytherin? That is an odd request, not many would expressly wish for that. Why, though… Never mind, I see you want to be with your friend, what a very Hufflepuff thing to wish for," the hat chuckled, leaving Harry to wonder how the hat was able to do so.

"Well, as you do fit in there, I suppose there is no harm done. Be warned though, do not let Slytherin house change you into something you're not. Be cunning, but remember your humanity," the hat advised.

"SLYTHERIN!" he declared loudly.

The hall went silent, but the only thing Harry cared about was Daphne's gleaming face as he joined her at the Slytherin table. Gazing around the hall, he saw many shocked faces. At the staff table, Hagrid, McGonagall and the headmaster looked almost comically. A greasy-haired was watching him with a mixture of contempt and intrigue.

* * *

AN: Hello all,

As usual and quite deservedly so, very many thanks to my beta haphne24 for the great help with this story.

And thanks to all my readers for your interest in my writing. Please leave reviews for me to enjoy and use as constructive criticism. Don't be annoyed if I don't answer your reviews, as I'd rather write the story.

Enjoy your day,

alexandertheII


	10. Chapter 10: The Head of Slytherin House

**Chapter 10: The Head of Slytherin House**

The first years were led through the castle and down into the depths of the dungeons by the prefects. They passed a large number of stairwells, doors, intersections and the like, leading to Harry's newest anxiety: finding classes and other places in this jumble.

At last, they reached a section of the wall, completely bare.

"This is the entrance to our common room. There is a password you have to know to gain entrance," one of the prefects, a girl named Morrigan Cross, explained.

She turned towards the blank wall and said, "Astutia."

Before the eyes of the awed newcomers, a section of the wall glided out of the way and revealed the Slytherin common room. It was a large, low room, decorated in varying green colours. There were sofas, dark wooden cupboards and a few tables, along with chairs. The walls were adorned with various portraits and a large, green crest with a snake emblazoned on it. Dominating the room were two large fireplaces. Harry assumed they were there for cold days, as the porthole in the back wall made it quite clear they were partly under the lake, which had to be cold in winter.

"Gather here, in a line, if you will. Professor Snape will be with us, shortly," Morrigan ordered briskly and the first years complied. Harry stood next to Daphne and a boy one could only describe as extremely medium: He was of medium height with medium build, had medium brown hair and eyes in pretty much the same shade. Just like Harry, he was looking around the room in awe. Studying the boy for a while, Harry noticed his robes were looking used, a little washed out, definitely second-hand. On his other side, Daphne was still elated over having Harry with her in Slytherin and in between surveying the common room, she kept throwing glances over to Harry, smiling like a cat that got its canary.

Harry's examination of his surroundings was cut short, when the same door-that-was-a-wall-on-the-outside opened again to let in the greasy haired professor who had looked at him so curiously after he had been sorted. His black cape billowing behind him, the man walked along in front of the group and came to a stand at the end of the row. He turned, gazed along the line of the first years and began to speak in a silky, smooth voice.

"Welcome to Slytherin, first years," he said, with only the barest hint of warmth in his voice. "My name is Professor Severus Snape, potions master and your head of house for the next seven years. Now that you have been sorted into Slytherin, be aware that most of this school will mistrust you, and while that may be justified in some cases," at this, he seemed to throw a small glance to Malfoy and his two goons, though Harry was not sure if he imagined it, "in most cases it will not be more than prejudice."

The first years looked at each other worriedly now, except for Daphne, whose good mood was seemingly unbreakable. However, the boy on Harry's other side looked completely terrified.

"As such, I do not allow disunity inside this house, do you understand?" When the first years nodded, Snape continued, his imposing presence growing even more, "Inside of Slytherin, you will stick together. If you have a problem with each other, you will resolve it in the common room, should that not work, you will come to me. You will not carry out your disagreements all throughout the castle, is that clear?" Again, the whole group nodded. "You may hear from the other houses that you are being favoured by me, but make no mistake: If I catch you breaking the rules, you will pay one way or the other. The other houses will not always see it, but it will happen. For the first two weeks, you will be escorted to every class by an older housemate."

Snape stepped over to the last person in the line, handing out a bag.

"These are wand holsters. As Slytherin is not what you would call appreciated within these halls, you will always wear it to always be able to defend yourself. Put them on your arm."

After everyone had taken one of the holsters and put it on their arm, he continued, "As for the common room, the password changes every fortnight and the new password will be posted to the noticeboard with enough warning. You are not to tell it to anyone outside this house, neither are you to bring anyone here."

Cloak billowing, the imposing professor now strode towards the wall. At the last moment, just before stepping through the door, he turned once more and announced in an icy-cold voice, "I will not allow bullying inside this house, do I make myself clear?"

Only after looking each and every one of the new students in the eye and receiving a nod of acceptance did he turn around and leave.

Following Snape's talk, the female prefect again took the lead, making Harry wonder whether the male prefect was at all interested in his job.

"You will be sharing your dorm rooms with one other person. Boys are the left door and girls through the right," she pointed at two identical doors directly opposite each other on the walls of the common room. "Just don't go broadcasting that you only have to share with one other person, as Ravenclaw and Gryffindor both don't enjoy this privilege. Once you have a dorm mate, these assignments are permanent. Tomorrow morning, be ready by eight for breakfast. Enjoy the rest of your evening," she finished and left.

Of course, Harry would have liked to bunk with Daphne, but since this was not possible he looked around for another possibility. His eyes fell on the expressly medium boy he had noticed before. He seemed nice enough, and his robes suggested he was not some pompous, rich pureblood, so Harry decided to give it a try.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter," he introduced himself to the boy, who now turned towards him after staring around the room glumly.

"Cennydd Lloyd, nice to meet you," he reciprocated the greeting and held out his hand, which Harry shook.

"Nice to meet you Cennydd, do you want to share a dorm room?" Harry asked his new house-mate, whose expression immediately turned much warmer. Harry also noticed a surprising lack of a reaction towards both his name and his scar, which extremely delighted him.

"That would be great!" A now way more enthusiastic Cennydd Lloyd replied. "But only as long as you don't have a problem with my magical hamster." Harry laughed and said he didn't have a problem.

With a last long hug, Harry wished Daphne good night and both went to their dorms to connect with their new dorm-mates.

* * *

The following morning, Harry awoke with a lot of time to spare before breakfast. Therefore, he took the time to really contemplate his surroundings, which he had neglected the previous evening over his conversation with Cennydd.

The dorm room they had been assigned was small, just enough space four two four-poster beds, two small desks, two cupboards and a fireplace. It was done in the same style as the common room, although without the portraits and the Slytherin banner, which Harry was grateful for.

Careful not to disturb Cennydd, he got up, took fresh clothes out of his cupboard, and made his way towards the showers. Having finished his morning routine, now including putting on his wand holster, he went to the common room with a book to keep him occupied until it was time for breakfast. However, when he reached the common room, it turned out he did not need the book to keep him as Daphne was already sitting on one of the dark-green leather sofas. Harry sat down next to his best friend and she immediately snuggled into his side, almost as if automatic and stayed like this for a long time.

After a long minute, she repositioned herself to look at his face and started talking. "Harry, I am so happy you are in Slytherin too. I almost thought I had to be here alone, but if we're here together it will be okay," she said breathlessly, her voice heavy with emotion.

Harry hugged her and whispered in her ear, "I am happy, too. „Again, they stayed like this for quite some time. After they let go of each other, they started talking about the previous evening, Professor Snape and their dorm-mates. Harry found out that Daphne's dorm-mate, Tracey Davis, was a half-blood, daughter of a witch and a muggle. As far as she was able to tell, the small, dark-haired witch was pleasant to be around, if maybe a little chatty.

In turn, Harry related what he knew of his dorm-mate: Cennydd Lloyd, an Irish boy, whose delighting lack of knowledge of Harry's fame came from his status as a muggleborn, the child of a psychiatrist and a botanist. After hearing about the houses on the train, being sorted into Slytherin had understandably been terrifying to him. His familiar was a magic hamster by the name of Jasper, which he had bought in Diagon Alley as a replacement for his late normal hamster.

Time flew by and soon, they were picked up for breakfast. Even for a normal meal, the Great Hall of Hogwarts was an impressive sight as the first years entered. Just like at the welcome feast, the amount of different foods was staggering. Harry and Daphne, together with Tracey and Cennydd, rejoiced in the abundance of choices. As they finished, Professor Snape strode along the table, handing out timetables to the students. The Slytherin first years were led to the Charms classroom for their first ever class: Double Charms, together with the Hufflepuffs. The lesson was nothing special at all, as Harry thought later. They had only been instructed on the right way to hold and act with their wand. Certainly important, but not all that fascinating. The most exciting moment of the class had actually been, when Flitwick the diminutive, but friendly and very adept charms professor, had noticed him and Daphne's unusual wand.

"Mr. Potter, your wand seems quite unusual. May I take a look at it?" He asked and Harry reluctantly handed over his wand. It was indeed quite unusual, or so Harry thought. He had picked it up around a week after his birthday together with Daphne and her mother. The wand was around eleven inches and rather unbendable. The intriguing part of the wand was the wood; it was a beautiful combination of the three different types of wood, seamlessly flowing over into one another, giving the whole wand the look of being almost fluid, a sea of bright, with some darker spots.

The professor took a long look at the wand then ran his fingers along the length of it, audibly drawing in a breath. With a shocked look at Harry, he mouthed what looked like 'elder' and waved the wand.

Nothing happened.

Another wave, no outcome either.

He handed Harry his wand back, and continued his stroll around the line of students that had been practicing how to correctly hold their wand. Yet, all through the lesson, his eyes kept wandering back to the strange wand and his owner.

The following class, Transfiguration, again with the Hufflepuffs, was a little more interesting. Maybe it was because they were actually using magic to try and turn a match into a needle, or maybe it was because their teacher first turned herself from a person into a cat, and backwards, and then her desk into a pig and backwards. In the end, it had hit home for every student that magic was not only some silly wand-waving mixed with incomprehensible words. It was actual work, and Harry and Daphne's success had been limited at best, although Harry did prick his finger at one point at the now pointy match.

* * *

Their week continued, first with introductions and then actual magic. There was Herbology, Neville's favourite subject taught by a stocky witch named Sprout. On Tuesday, they had their first Defence against the Dark Arts class which Harry had been looking forward to immensely. However, the class, or rather the professor turned out to be a major disappointment. He would stutter, become awfully quiet when asked about vampires and generally seemed like he could not defend himself from Neville's toad, Trevor.

By Friday, the first years including Daphne and Harry were exhausted. But on this day, Harry had something he had been looking forward to as much as the first Defence lesson - potions with Snape. Although he had been told about the 'greasy-haired old bat' by the Weasley twins and other older pupils that Snape was no easy person to be around and would certainly never win a teacher of the year award, his skills in potion making were never questioned.

On Friday morning an extremely delighted Harry, along with a dejected Daphne and a somewhat bored Cennydd, followed the fifth-year prefect to the potions classroom deep inside the dungeons of Hogwarts. As usual, the group arrived early and had to wait for a few minutes before the first of the Gryffindors, with which they would be sharing the class, started to trickle in. Harry used this time to look around the room. It was a little creepy, that much was sure, even without the various animal parts on display in large glass jars around the walls of the room.

"I hope those are really only animal parts," Harry thought out loud, making even Daphne snigger a little, although he himself was not completely sure how much of it had been joke and how much had been actual concern.

His worrying was cut short by the classroom door opening forcefully. In strode Snape, his cape billowing behind him in a way that finally made Harry understand why some called him bat-like. Like Flitwick and McGonagall before him, Snape did a roll call. He stopped shortly at Harry's name, turned a small glare in his direction and then moved on to the remaining names. The imposing professor now positioned himself in front of the students, his demeanour the same way it had been when he had welcomed the new Slytherins.

As he started to speak, it was just above whispering, yet no one dared make a sound, so everything was perfectly audible. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death; if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter," Snape suddenly turned towards Harry, fixing him with an icy gaze. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry was a little surprised at the suddenness of the question, but given the icy glare he had received from the man earlier he had expected at least some form of attack. Unfortunately, this was a question to which he did not know the answer but he knew something else though.

"I don't know, Sir," he answered in a careful, respectful voice and with as much politeness in his voice as he could muster. He continued, "But, Asphodel is associated with death and oblivion, while wormwood is supposed to induce hallucinations and dream-like states. My best guess would be a strong sleeping potion."

The longer his answer had taken, the more his class-mates had started to stare at him. Even Snape, his face so impassive before, could not refrain from a small look of unwilling approval before he got his face back under control.

"Then, answer me this: Where would I find a bezoar?" He asked, as if determined to find something Harry had absolutely no answer to.

"In the stomach of a goat, Sir," Harry answered, this time promptly and without any doubt or hesitation. Obviously abandoning his crusade, Snape turned his eyes on the Gryffindors, specifically Neville.

"You," he rechecked his class-list before continuing, "Longbottom. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

His voice a little wavering, the eyes a little fearful but his answer sure, it was a herbology question after all, Neville spoke, "There is no difference, Sir. They are the same, also known as Aconite, or the German's call them _Eisenhut_ due to their…"

"That will be enough, Longbottom," Snape interrupted the boy, with what actually seemed like a little happiness in his eyes.

"Maybe there is hope for this class, after all. Five points to Slytherin for Mr. Potter's answers. Instructions are on the board, start now."

The instructions turned out to be for a simple boil-curing potion that Harry had made before with Tori. He spent little time making his own potion and more on helping Daphne with hers. At the end of the lesson, he turned in a perfect potion. Daphne's was okay.

* * *

It was their second week at Hogwarts and despite the already growing workload, Daphne enjoyed it there. She had a lot of time to spend with Harry, granted she had had that even before Hogwarts, but as she had kind of feared she would be sorted into Slytherin and he would want nothing more to do with her, it still delighted her immensely. That was on top of how delighted she always was to be spending time with him in the first place.

"Morning, Harry," she greeted her best friend as he left the corridor with the boys' dorms.

"Morning. How was the night?" he asked in a concerned voice, looking at her strangely.

"Not good, why do you ask?" She answered, intrigued by his weird look and unusually grave voice.

"Just knew, you remember our talk, about how we could feel each other's emotions," he explained lowly, wrapping her in a tight hug. "What happened?" He inquired, concern etched in his features.

"I am fine, don't worry," she reassured him. In answer to his probing gaze, she continued, "It was Tracey. She's homesick and I felt really bad for her, maybe that's what you felt. Or it was just my general sleeplessness."

"Hmm," he commented oh so eloquently.

Their strange connection was something that puzzled both of them. Neither was worried, but it was a mystery that direly needed solving. Through their time at Hogwarts, nothing particularly new had happened, and though Daphne had the feeling the connection grew stronger or at least more stable, she was not quite sure. Part of that was because most of the emotionally charged situations they had had, had happened when both Harry and her had been there to directly experience them. This made Daphne unsure which emotions were hers and which, if any, were Harry's.

"No use pondering about it," her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Harry, who smiled at her and gave a small nod with his head, over towards another sofa where Tracey was now lying, peacefully asleep.

"What do you say we let her rest? I'm sure Sprout won't mind if Neville helps her catch up. Then we can pick her up for Transfiguration later," Harry proposed.

As she could find no fault in his plan, she nodded and they made their way towards breakfast.

Harry was glad he had been right about Professor Sprout's reaction. While she had not been overly pleased, the promise of the whole group of friends to help her catch up, paired with the all too understandable reason for her absence, had convinced the likeable professor of not punishing Tracey for her absence.

"One points for Slytherin, for showing loyalty towards your housemate," she only said after the lesson, and with that Harry knew she really had no ill feelings towards them or Tracey. Sadly though, Professor McGonagall could be counted on to be less understanding, so he and Daphne went to the common room after Herbology to pick the girl up for Transfiguration.

The material in Transfiguration was demanding but also fascinated him. However, the problem was that Harry had more trouble concentrating on his wand and the right frame of mind needed for Transfiguration than usual. He was too excited about the flying lesson later in the day. While he had flown a broom before and found it a completely liberating experience, he wanted to know how he compared to the others in his year.

"Also, I just want to fly again," he silently admitted to himself on the way down for lunch from McGonagall's class room. Daphne, seemingly infected by his elation, skipped beside him, scaring many of the other students just a little, as they were not used to Slytherins being so openly upbeat.

"Really sad existence, though," he continued to muse, "It's as if the whole school never took the time to get to know any Slytherins personally. We're not all like that Malfoy creep."

At that moment a thought struck him, he would have to share a common room with Malfoy for the next seven years.

"Very clever, Harry" he chastised himself, "about time you realised that. Maybe try to make things a little more civil with Draco?"

Over his musings, they had reached the Great Hall.

"Hey, wanna check out what Neville got?" He was shaken out of his thoughts by his best friend. "Rumour has it he has some awesome new gimmick; I want to know what it could be."

Harry was intrigued too, so he nodded towards Daphne, and the two of them made their way towards the Gryffindor table, both very conscious of the suspicious looks they received. Ignoring the inquisitive stares, and one or the other very toxic one, they reached Neville who was just showing off his newest acquisition to a bunch of other Gryffindor first years. To Harry's relief, the Weasley boy was not with them.

"Hey, you two," they were greeted by the shy boy, who promptly raised his hand, containing a marble-sized glass ball filled with white smoke.

"Is that what I think it is?" An excitable Daphne piped up next to him. Judging from her reaction, this thing was obviously something either very exciting, very rare, very expensive, or a combination thereof. Noticing his befuddled expression, Neville turned towards Harry to explain.

"It's a Remembrall. My gran sent it, because I keep forgetting stuff. It turns red if you've…" he never finished, as the ball had turned a bright scarlet-red the moment he clutched it more tightly. "I just can't think of _what_ I actually forgot," he said dejectedly, before returning to his meal and they returned back to their table.

At twenty past three, meaning ten minutes early, a very excited Harry, followed by a still tired but evenly excited Tracey, and a much less excited Daphne could be found in the courtyard where the first flying lesson was scheduled to take place. They took the brooms an older student had advised them to take, because the others were apparently 'completely useless rubbish', and waited for the teacher, Madam Hooch, to appear.

Harry and Tracey were eagerly awaiting permission from Madame Hooch to allow them to fly while Daphne looked less eager. On the other hand, Neville looked terrified and Draco seeing this was sending him smirks. Madame Hooch told them to stand by their brooms.

* * *

"Now, I want you to say 'Up'!" Madame Hooch commanded.

The whole group followed the order and Harry could clearly see there were going to be some problematic flyers there.

There was, for one, Neville, whose broom narrow-mindedly avoided following his orders and just lay there, still. Then there was Daphne's, which moved, but only reluctantly, and did not leave the ground while doing so. To top it all off, Ron Weasley actually managed what Daphne had been afraid of at her first try; He was hit in the face by his broom, though Harry was not sure if it was due to the boy who attempted to call it or the abysmal quality of the broom itself.

Finally, when everyone's broom had followed their commands and risen, they were instructed by Hooch how to mount it. Unfortunately, these descriptions did not really stick with either Neville's panicking mind, or his broom. Way before the teacher blew her whistle, Neville kicked off and rose into the air. Hooch's shouts did little to calm him down or get him back on the ground. The moment the clumsy boy looked down, he fell and had to be taken to the hospital wing with a broken wrist.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear," she said before she took off with the frightened boy.

Draco, with whom Harry had sworn to be more civil earlier, started making fun of the inured Neville. When Malfoy picked up Neville's Remembrall, Harry could not hold back any longer.

"Give that back, Draco," he said politely, but with an edge to his voice. He wanted the ball, not get into a fight.

"Hmm, I think not. I think he'll be able to get it himself. From, maybe… let's say, a tree," and he grabbed a broom, only to be stopped in his tracks by Harry.

"I'm not sure you want to do that, Draco," Harry warned, still clinging to the hope of a little civility between him and his housemate. Also, he had no intention of breaking Snape's rules about inner-house fights.

"And who should stop me, _Potter_?" Draco scoffed, turning away from the group and starting to mount the broom.

"How about McGonagall would as her office is up there," Harry suggested, but Draco just sneered and took off.

Professor McGonagall was sitting in her office grading papers, when in the corner of her eye; she saw something that took her aback. A first year was riding a broom outside her window, above the court-yard. That, in itself was not unusual, but this student was alone. So, she went over to her window and looked down. As she took in the group of very earthbound students and the absence of Madam Hooch, she knew that she had to unleash her wrath

"Malfoy!" She exclaimed as she entered the courtyard and most of the group of students looked at her, eyes wide in shock. Admittedly, some of the Gryffindors sniggered, which the professor did not like to see. "You will immediately march toward Professor Snape's office to wait there for the professor and me," she ordered, her best stern professor look etched into her face.

Just as she made to follow the chastised student, she was held back by someone calling out to her.

"Professor McGonagall," Potter called for her, prompting her to turn around. "Could you maybe get Neville's Remembrall out of the tree? It got stuck up there… during his accident at flying," he said, a look of slight guilt on his face. The Gryffindors all around were looking decidedly ashamed, while the Slytherin students, especially the one she had just sent away, tried their best to look as innocent as possible.

"If that story is true I will eat my quilt," she allowed herself a little silent humour, though her mirth never showed on her stern gaze.

"Of course, Mr. Potter," she said, turned her wand towards the tree and intoned, "Accio Remembrall!" The small ball landed in her hand softly and she gave it to Harry, who thanked her profusely.

* * *

It was evening in the Slytherin common room. Harry, Daphne Tracey and Cennydd had just returned from visiting Neville in the hospital wing where Harry had given back the Remembrall, eliciting a sigh of relaxation and a simple, "Gran would have killed me if I lost it" from the newly healed boy. One night in the hospital wing was hardly bad for a 30 ft. fall.

As the group set up their things for some leftover homework to complete, they were interrupted by a very weird looking Draco Malfoy. The usual haughtiness, the self-righteous sneer was completely absent; in their place was utter confusion, mixed with maybe a little relief.

"Potter… Harry, do you have a moment?" He asked almost timidly. Receiving a nod, he sat down on the couch opposite Harry and started to talk.

"Why didn't you rat me out? It would have been the perfect opportunity to get one on me," Draco asked.

"What would I gain from it? We are housemates for the next seven years. I don't know about you, but I'd rather we get along. Plus, you were already caught," Harry answered, voice low and even. "What did Snape do to you, anyway?"

"He was able to save me from expulsion. Now I have to scrub all kettles that get stuff burned into them all year. How could you be sure no one would question your story?" A surprisingly happy Draco asked.

"Slytherins would not rat out two of their own. And did you look at the Gryffindors at all? They were way too embarrassed to admit to not doing anything against you in front of their house teacher. Proud, noble Gryffs, aren't they? Not standing up for their own," Harry explained, a rare, true smile gracing his features.

Maybe he could get at least amicable with Draco after all.

* * *

AN: Thanks to my great beta Haphne24 for the great work. Also, thank you all for reading please leave a review.


	11. Chapter 11: Hurts

**Chapter 11: Hurt, accidental and unintentional**

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in a shady pub, opposite a shifty looking and even worse smelling wizard. He was an unsavoury character with whom dealing the old headmaster did not particularly enjoy, but for some of the more clandestine operations people with a better reputation, smoking habits and personal hygiene were just not suitable.

"Did some snoopin' 'round the neighbourhood," Mundungus Fletcher informed him in a low voice. "Old Figgi was right, boy's gone, and from what I could tell, so are the wards. Do you really want him back there?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh yes, I don't see another way, sadly," Albus answered. He knew it would not be easy for Harry when he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep so many years ago, Mrs. Figg's reports certainly indicated towards the same, or rather even worse than Albus had ever thought. However, it was just not possible, for them to be treating Harry the way some of the neighbours implied and just like the wizard in front of him the Dursleys needed a second chance. With just a little prodding into the right direction, maybe they would be a right cheerful family. There was nothing as important as family, after all, as Albus himself had learned so painstakingly.

"And you are certain the wards are down?" he asked his, for lack of a better word, lackey. Said lackey only grunted and then nodded, as if to say, "get a specialist if you want to know for sure."

"Far as I could tell," he answered instead. That was worrying indeed, because the only way they could have fallen about seven years early, was if Harry had found another place to call home, somewhere away from the blood which could afford him the protection he needed in the future. Because Voldemort would be back, there was no doubt about it and he would go for Harry again, if only to try and prove his absolute superiority over the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. That was not even counting in the part of the prophecy he had been told by Severus in his misguided servitude.

Soon, it would be time for the young, muggle-raised orphan to attend Hogwarts. In fact, the letter was probably already on the way, if the talk the old headmaster had with his rather put out deputy that morning was any indication. She had always disliked the chore of making and sending all the letters. Although, she had seemed just a little more annoyed than what was usual, Albus did not take particular notice of it even if she outright rejected telling him where the letter for young Harry was being sent.

Returning to the matter at hand, "What to do about Harry Potter?" he asked himself. The answer was rather simple, though the realisation of this answer was going to be more complex. How to get Harry back to the Dursleys, with him willing to do so and them again accepting him into their fold? Why did everything have to be so complicated?

He would just have to manage. For the Greater Good.

* * *

The headmaster was pacing around his office, still a little befuddled as to the happenings of the evening. He had known about Harry's stay with the Greengrass family, one of his contacts in the Ministry had slipped him the information as soon as Harry was seen there together with Xander Greengrass, but he had assumed it was more out of convenience for the lazy bureaucracy that was the Ministry of Magic. After all, Aurors were thoroughly vetted for any disturbing personal ties, and the MCPS was horribly understaffed and –funded, probably just hoping to unload the boy as soon as possible. As long as he could not be used for political gain, Harry was of little interest to the powers that be.

The Greengrasses were just there at the moment, at least that was, what he assumed. However, the way with which he conducted himself around the oldest Greengrass daughter and vice versa severely crippled that assumption. It also made the idea of getting Harry to consent to going back to his family somewhat impossible. Forcing him back would not work and from what he had been told, he would not go willingly, if the information about the reason for his removal from Privet Drive were to be believed.

Albus had an idea that his deputy knew more than she let on, but she did not seem inclined to share any information. During their usual little talks enjoyed over a nice cup of tea, she now seemed more distant and reserved. When the conversation came towards Harry, she would be downright cold.

However, the surprises did not end there. No, the boy had managed to get himself sorted into Slytherin, shocking not only Albus, but the entire school. Not to mention, probably the entire wizarding world as soon as word got out.

"Skeeter's gossip column will be very interesting to read, tomorrow," he thought with a small, inward chuckle. But, this did nothing to quell the unease growing inside Albus' mind. He was sure Harry was safe for the moment, however when, not if, Voldemort came back, he would be in serious danger living in Slytherin with the children of former 'imperius victims'. Every last one of them was redeemable, of course, but a momentary lapse in judgement would be all that was needed for Harry to receive lasting harm.

Steps would have to be taken to protect him from his house-mates. If possible, without Harry's knowledge, to save the little rest of a childhood the boy had left.

* * *

Things were getting dangerous for Harry sooner than Albus expected. Just a week into classes, he had been warned by Severus about Quirrell's more than questionable allegiance. Considering the Philosopher's Stone was currently being kept safe inside the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, some of the safeguards still having to be erected actually, this development was very worrying.

The mirror he had requisitioned would be enough to keep any of Voldemort's followers away, he was sure of that. Until then, the other defences would just have to hold, although he had no illusions of being able to keep Voldemort, or rather Quirrell as his servant, away forever.

Behind him, Fawkes trilled sadly and a wave of pictures and emotions, the way in which a phoenix communicated with its human, filled his mind. They all seemed to be calling him a hypocrite.

"You know these safeguards could be cracked by a first year, and you want it to be Potter," they accused him. Maybe his familiar was right, the old headmaster admitted to himself sadly, as he was torn between the need to let Harry have as normal a childhood as possible and the necessity of preparing him for what was to come. He turned towards his familiar, who looked back at him with sad, dark eyes.

"For the Greater Good," he said not sure if to the phoenix or himself.

* * *

It was Friday, the day after the incident during their first flying lesson, and Harry and his Slytherin friends were late for Transfiguration. They had been held back to help clear up the mess a Gryffindor by the name of Dean Thomas had made during class. It turned out to be quite an amount of work, as the concrete-like substance that had formed in the cauldron and around the work-station stubbornly refused to be vanished magically. They had to use hammer and chisel to get the table free of it and threw the cauldron away.

Snape had given them no pass for McGonagall, meaning they had even more incentive to be on time. You did not want to be late in McGonagall's class.

"Do you think… _pant,_ McGonagall will… _wheeze_ …wait for us?" Harry asked the others in between haggard breaths from running. They reached one of the moving staircases, affording them the necessary time to take a breath.

"I hope so; I really want to see her transform," Daphne answered with a slightly forlorn look to her face. Earlier in the week, to end the incessant begging by some of the students, she had announced she would show her animagus transformation at the beginning of their Friday class.

Suddenly, the stairs stopped their movement in front of a door. Harry went for it and tried to push it open, but it was locked. He was pushed aside by Daphne with a 'let-me-try' look as she walked towards the door.

" _Alohomora_ ," she intoned with a slight flick of her wand and ran through the door followed by Harry, Tracey and Cennydd.

They were stopped in their paces by the sight that presented itself unto them: a giant, three-headed dog sat there, slobber dropping from its three imposingly teethy muzzles. That was without counting the immense stench surrounding the frightening animal. Already turning around again, Harry realised what exactly the dog was standing on. It was not the floor, that much was clear, considering it was wood. However, he did not take more time to ponder his observation, as they all decided to rather leg it than stay. Still panting, the group reached the Transfiguration corridor.

"I guess we know now, why that corridor is currently off limits," a surprisingly composed Cennydd observed, making all of them understand what they had just seen. It was the forbidden third floor corridor.

It was later on the same day and the group was pouring over the 'compensatory essays' assigned by Professor McGonagall for their lateness.

"At least Astronomy got cancelled," Tracey tried lifting everybody's mood by reminding them of Professor Sinistra's illness and the subsequent cancellation of both their theoretical and practical astronomy class.

"It still remains an awfully long essay on the legal situation surrounding animagi," Daphne reminded them. She glared at Tracey and added, "And you asking her, whether we could see her transformation later, certainly did not help. 'If you're so interested in the animagus transformation, maybe your essay ought to be longer', or need I remind you?"

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't really think that one through, did I?" An apologetically smiling Tracey admitted, looking at Cennydd, Daphne and Harry. Being remembered of her almost doubling the length of their essay, they only shot her angry stares in return. Harry had to concede to Daphne's point, although he really wanted to see that transformation too. Not that he would ever ask in such a situation, he was way too intimidated by the stern transfiguration mistress to do something that stupid.

"What the hell kind of Slytherin are you, anyway? Aren't we supposed to be, like, very cunning?" His thoughts were interrupted by Cennydd, wearing a slight smirk that told Harry his quip was well-meaning. Unfortunately, only someone who knew him a little better would notice. Harry had been spending way more time with the boy than either Tracey or Daphne; he was concerned it might be taken the wrong way.

He was right at that.

"I thought we were friends…" A now slightly teary, maybe a little sobbing Tracey looked at Cennydd, hurt in her eyes, stood up, and stormed to her dorm. Daphne shot Harry a look that seemed to be saying 'deal with him' and followed her friend and roommate.

"What?" Cennydd managed to utter, his face filled with surprise and consternation.

"Not everyone gets your jokes, you gotta be more careful. She doesn't have an easy time being here, she really misses her family, mate," Harry told the boy, whose facial expression quickly changed from befuddled to sad and guilty.

"But… I just wanted to lighten the mood a little," he mumbled in a small voice rather uncharacteristic for the boy after he had found his new friends at Hogwarts.

"I know that. But neither does Daphne nor Tracey. We're roommates, so I know you a little better than they do," Harry told the ashamed boy in a consoling voice. "Also, I've had to learn to read people early on," he completed the thought inside his head.

Harry watched Cennydd turn towards Morrigan, one of the prefects and waved her over.

"Hey, could you do me a favour?" He asked the older student, still with a small, sad voice. "Could you go into the girls' dorms and get Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davies out? I… well, I made a joke, but it was not perceived as such. I've rather upset her, and want to apologize. But we're not allowed into the girls' dorms…" He trailed off, looking at the fifth year hopefully.

"It's good you want to make it right," she answered with a smile, nodded and went towards the door to the girls' dorms. A few minutes later, although it felt longer to Harry, and visibly even longer to Cennydd, the two girls, followed by Morrigan came back into the common room. Tracey was still a little teary-eyed, but looked much less unhappy than when she had run out of the door before. Daphne on the other hand, shot Cennydd a glare and Harry a smile.

"Tracey, I'm really sorry; I really did not mean to hurt you. It was well meaning, honestly. I only wanted to raise everyone's spirits after that much extra-work, I know I need to make it clearer when I joke, but people don't seem to get it…" he explained almost breathlessly, only interrupted by Tracey who now flung her arms around her new friend. Harry could see the boy tense up, but not in the way he would. In his eyes, Harry could not see the panic he had felt during instances of being suddenly hugged just surprise and inability to comprehend the situation. She released Cennydd, whose face now showed the same surprise as his eyes, explaining to Tracey why he did not reciprocate.

Trying to move past the awkward moment, Harry cleared his throat. Suddenly all eyes on him, he proposed, "Why don't we put this stuff away? Maybe Hermione can help us, tomorrow. You know she would even find it interesting." He chuckled, the whole group following with a slight snigger.

"Let's talk about the elephant in the room," Daphne submitted, forming a grin. "Or rather, the giant, three-headed dog. I mean, what the hell do they think putting it inside a school? A giant, three-headed dog directly behind a damn door at the staircase," she finished, now with considerable anger in her voice.

"I think it is there for a reason," Harry suggested to astonished gasps from Tracey and Daphne. Cennydd though nodded in accordance.

"It was a trapdoor," he added. Noting the questioning glances, he continued, "The dog was standing on a trapdoor, I think the reason it's here is to guard something. I mean, what do you get when you want something guarded? A dog, right?"

"Still, it sounds like a bad idea to have a monster like that in the school," Daphne piped up outraged. She looked at the others provokingly, though no one actually seemed interested to disagree with her. Harry could not contradict that either, but he was also very interested in what this dog was guarding.

"Maybe if something interesting or dangerous happens, we could _investigate_ what this is about?" Harry suggested to nods from the whole group. "But who could we ask about the dog? Somehow, I don't think we're allowed to know about that thing."

"The professor for magical creatures would be the obvious choice. Who is he?" Tracey suggested with her voice still a little nasal from crying.

"No, Kettleburn is supposed to be really suspicious about pretty much everything. At least, that's what my parents told me. How about Hagrid? He's really nice, I think, and to be honest, rather gullible," Daphne proposed.

"Ok, we'll do that when something suspicious happens," Harry, backed by the whole group's nodding, decided.

* * *

The next few weeks went by with little going on. Harry and Daphne were as close as ever, both terribly relieved they had each other and their new friends, both inside Slytherin and in the other houses. Classes continued to be demanding, but at least they were getting more practical. Of course, Snape was still being the "overgrown bat" the older students the older students called him, and McGonagall was still the hard taskmaster Harry had always expected her to be. However, even the hours spent brewing in the dungeons classroom were becoming almost fun for them, even though Daphne kept swearing she would never in her life like potions class. The same went for pretty much everyone, except Hermione, of course, in Transfiguration. To his astonishment, he still disliked Defence against the Dark Arts. He just kept having a weird feeling around Professor Quirrell.

Time flew by, and soon it was the week before the 31st of October, a day Harry had been dreading ever since he had learned more about his parents, especially their deaths.

Harry and Daphne were currently occupying the very first workstation in front of the teacher's table in the potions classroom. Harry, who had been increasingly bored by the annoyingly boring subject matter in this particular class, was heavily multitasking: Firstly, his own cauldron, filled with a rather simple fever-lowering concoction, was quietly simmering away and in the last minutes it required to be finally done. Secondly, he was helping Daphne with her more _interesting_ approach to the potion, which had managed to assume not the mild blued colour it was supposed to, but more of an angry red.

"I think you mixed up the direction at the last time you stirred," Harry thought out loud, to a rather annoyed and surprisingly sad looking Daphne. "I think we can repair it. At the moment, it will raise a fever, rather than lowering it. If we add more of the White Willow Bark, say double, it should be alright."

"How do you know that?" His bemused best friend whispered fervently, looking at him in astonishment.

Harry leaned in, looked around conspiratorially, and turned to her with a mysterious expression and started to whisper.

"It says so in my book," he filled her in, showing her the page of his potions textbook, where Daphne's exact mistake was listed as a frequently made error, along with how to deal with it.

"You prat! Why didn't you tell me?" She grumbled with a mock scowl Harry could easily see through.

"Makes you wonder why Snape doesn't tell us to open the books, if stuff like that is explained in there," she muttered, now following the instructions from the book rather than those from the blackboard. Harry started thinking about the same question, but was unable to come to any meaningful conclusion, so he just shrugged and went back to his third project.

Now that was something he was actually excited about. During a short visit to the Hospital Wing after a mishap in flying class two days before, for which he was duly scolded by Daphne, who somehow considered it Harry's fault, he had gotten interested in all the potions that were involved in healing. He'd gotten to talk with the matron, Madam Pomfrey, and she had told him all about the different remedies she could in the short time. When he mentioned he was bored in potions, she had immediately come up with a remedy. From now on, he was making potions for her use.

The first batch, which he was now working on, was Pepperup Potion, a funny little concoction that was administered for any number of ailments, most often the common cold.

"I'm sure we'll need it, winter is coming. Well, after autumn that is," the friendly nurse had explained her demand. She had actually managed to wiggle a few extra credits out of Snape for the work Harry was doing, along with some house points. The latter she had been able to do rather easily, the former was a little harder.

"Are you going to try out your idea?" Daphne shook him from his thoughts, contentedly looking at her now deep blue potion. "The thing with less bicorn horn but more simmering time? I for one wouldn't mind reducing the time I have steam coming out my ears after taking Pepperup."

"I will make two batches," Harry started to explain, only to be interrupted by Snape's oily voice calling the class to order again.

"Five minutes left, bottle up your samples and clean up," he ordered them, gazing around the room scathingly, until his eyes caught on the work station Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown were using.

"Weasley, you will stay behind. Your potion is so dismal I can't even give you a zero. You will redo it," he sneered, generating a rather horrified look on the redhead's face. "Since, being the dunderhead you are, you will need help. Ask Potter, he should be competent enough to prevent you from blowing us all up. I have no interest in spending my free period on such a hopeless case as you are. Mr. Potter will continue with his current work, too. He is excused from his next class."

"But, I have a free period too, I don't want…" The annoyed Weasley piped up, suddenly going silent at the look on Snape's face.

"That's enough, _Mr. Weasley_ ," Snape silenced him menacingly. "Five points from Gryffindor. If you mess this potion up again, it will be more."

With that, the potions professor left the classroom, black cloak billowing behind him. The only students left behind were Harry, Daphne and the Ron. Daphne threw a questioning glance first at Harry, then at Ron and then back at her best friend. She could feel his uneasiness at being alone with and helping the boy who had treated her family so badly. She gave him an encouraging smile, shrugged like "I don't care, so he was an arse before" and left the room, too.

Harry returned to his project that was still simmering on the fire, turned down the heat and stirred.

"Seven times clockwise, two times counter-clockwise. Seven times clockwise, two times counter-clockwise…" He repeated on his head over and over again, for the full minute he had to stir the now brilliantly green potion. Setting the cauldron to simmer, he started to clean out his own, much smaller cauldron, in which he would make the experimental version of Pepperup that he hoped led to less side-effects. Or rather, one side-effect: steam coming out of one's ears was certainly not pleasant, but if his idea worked, it would reduce the time of said side-effect to only a few minutes, not several hours.

Waiting for his potion to continue seasoning, he turned to look at his still grumbling classmate.

"You want any help?" He asked, unsure if he really wanted to help the unfriendly, prejudiced boy.

"Why would you help me, you're a Slytherin?" Ron asked, face wary and his voice disconcertingly toxic.

"There it is, the prejudice," Harry thought and continued out loud," Why wouldn't I? We're classmates, shouldn't we help each other?"

"But you're a Slytherin," the answer was given with so much abandon and belief that Harry almost pitied the boy for his short-sightedness. _Almost._

"And why the hell would that matter?" Harry shot back, his temper starting to rise.

"Because you're in Slytherin. Everyone knows there are only evil wizards in Slytherin," Ron glared back.

"At one time, everyone _'knew'_ magic was evil and witches were burnt at the stake. So, let me ask you again, why the hell should me being in Slytherin matter?" Harry asked, seriously angry, which showed in his voice.

"Because I thought we could be friends. I thought that I could rescue you from that evil family and from that Greengrass girl and we could both be in Gryffindor together," the youngest Weasley boy shouted angrily at Harry, his face flushed.

"Be careful what you're saying, _Weasley_! That's my best friend and her family you're talking about." Harry replied in cold anger. "Now, I'll ask you one more time, do you want any help with that potion of yours? Otherwise, I'm going to return to my project."

Without receiving an answer, Harry returned to his workstation and ladled a little of the potion into his small pewter cauldron to try out his new recipe.

* * *

It was the morning of Halloween, or All Hallows Eve, as the first years had learned the day before in an uncharacteristically interesting History of Magic lesson. Contrary to what seemed like the whole rest of the school, Daphne was in a bad mood. She knew Harry dreaded this day, the tenth anniversary of his parents' death, which meant she dreaded it as well. Her best friend had grown increasingly quiet over the last few days and his mood had been continually worsening. Now, he was sitting next to her at the breakfast table only picking at his food from time to time.

"Harry, would you talk to me?" She asked in a soft voice, careful not to touch him, because he had not taken lightly to that for a few days, either, always tensing up at the slightest contact. He looked up at her, his eyes haunted and sad, framed by huge rings.

"What?" He said in a croaky voice, looking at her forlornly.

"Can I help you somehow? I can't bear seeing you like that," she almost begged him. She could almost feel his pain physically by just looking at him. Not to mention their strange emotional connection.

"I don't think I want to go to a feast tonight. Would…" He paused, looking at her with his green eyes dulled by sadness. "Would you stay with me in the common room? I don't want to be alone today."

"But the Halloween feast is supposed…" His stricken look stopped her. _No question, her best friend needed her, so she would be there for him_. "Of course," she corrected herself, leaned over to him and slung an arm around him in a hug she held until his tense muscles relaxed a little.

By lunchtime, not much had changed, only Harry had started to brood even worse. In an effort to shake him from his depressed state, Daphne started suggesting various things. At some point, she even proposed studying for potions, it got that bad. Alas, Harry did not want to.

"Fine, I give up," she finally declared. "At least, let us get some homework done while we can. That essay McGonagall gave us will take hours."

"Maybe Hermione can give us some pointers," Harry put forward, gazing over to the Ravenclaw table. After they both failed to find her sitting with her house-mates, they got worried and started asking around.

"Well, after charms, Weasley said some very rude things about her being a 'bossy know-it-all' and how she could only make friends with," Lisa Turpin threw Harry a wary glance before she quietly continued, "evil snakes. I think she's crying in a loo in the dungeons now." With a guilty look, the small first year Ravenclaw added, "I tried to get her to come out, but I couldn't get her to."

Daphne locked eyes with Harry and immediately knew what he had planned. Together, the two friends hurried towards the girls' lavatory in the dungeons. At the door, Harry stood stiff.

"What is it?" Daphne asked, a guess already in her head.

"This is a girls' loo; I can't go in there!" He answered, looking outraged at the mere suggestion of crossing that particular door.

"Really, Harry! Sometimes you're too noble for everyone's good," she commented, before grabbing his robes and dragging him through the door. Inside the room, they could hear someone cry softly from the last stall, furthest away from the entrance. They silently made for that stall and Daphne hesitantly knocked.

"Leave me alone," the weepy voice of Hermione Granger could be heard coming from inside the stall.

"No, we won't. We're worried about you," Daphne answered in a steady voice. Hearing her friend like this broke her heart.

"Just go away! Wouldn't want your bossy know-it-all of a friend to spoil the feast for you," Hermione now almost screamed at them, her voice dripping with intense hurt.

"Hermione, about the feast…" Daphne started only to be interrupted by Harry.

"Hermione, I don't think this feast could be anymore ruined for me, to be honest. Remember what day it is," he said glumly, but it seemed to get Hermione out of her crying stupor. Instead, the door of the stall flew open and an astonishingly fast witch shot out into Harry's arms.

"Of course, Harry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be so insensitive, it must be a hard day for you," she now cried into his shoulder. He threw Daphne a helpless glance over Hermione's shoulder after releasing the tension from his body. As fun as Daphne thought it would be to let Harry squirm a little in his discomfort around the crying girl, she decided to set them both free.

"We know, Hermione. That kind of talk is sure to get to you," she assured her friend after gently removing her from Harry's arms. Or rather, removing Harry from her, with how hard she was clinging to him.

"We were not really planning to go to the feast, considering the day. You wanna join us in not going?" Harry proposed, and a still teary eyed Hermione nodded in return.

* * *

AN: Thanks to my great beta, haphne24.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter; if so please leave a review. If you didn't leave one anyway and tell me what can be better. I'd be especially interested, if I am getting into bashy territory with Ron, because that's certainly not what I want.

Enjoy your weekend,

alexandertheII


	12. Chapter 12: Poor, Dreadful, Troll

Chapter 12: Poor, dreadful, troll

For some time, Harry, together with Hermione and Daphne, had been touring the castle. During their time at Hogwarts so far, they had already found a number of secret passages, doorways and staircases. Hermione, ever the curious one, decided for all of them, that they would use at least part of the evening to scour the castle for more of its secrets.

"I mean, if we can't use the time to do more of our homework," she declared, almost sounding a little contrite at the lack of unfinished homework, "we should find something different to occupy our time."

Harry and Daphne stifled their amusement at Hermione's comment, because they too thought Hermione had a point. Also, at least Harry massively enjoyed his friend's never-ending was refreshing after the ignorance and general disdain for academic knowledge usually displayed in the Dursley household.

The group was strolling through the lower levels of the castle comparing their thoughts on their first exam and homework scores. The grading system used by the teachers led to some confusion for the two muggle-raised students.

"So, it is outstanding, exceeds expectations, acceptable, poor, dreadful, troll, right?" Harry asked for confirmation.

Daphne nodded, and Harry continued his questioning, "But there are also points for some reason? I'm sure I saw Snape mouth something like 'zero' when he was grading papers the other day."

"I bet he did," Daphne giggled at Harry's pronouncement.

After calming down, she added, "And yes. Technically, the points are for everything but OWLs and NEWTs. Still, many teachers use the other grades along with points, because there is a simple table to convert one into the other." She inclined her head a little, brows furrowed in thought. "Now that I think about it, I really don't see the point in having two systems, to be honest."

Now, Harry himself started asking that very question and before he could even consider a possible solution, his senses were attacked by a cacophony of information. None of it was good. His nose was filled with a foul smell, as if something had died and been let rotting for a few weeks. His inherent 'danger-sense', honed in years of gouging his uncle's moods and running from Dudley and his gang, screamed in alarm. His ears reported heavy breathing and steps that reverberated through the entirety of the corridor. Finally, his eyes identified the source for all the other sensations: In front of them stood a giant thing, large, remotely human, with a dumb look etched into its face and an enormous club in its hands.

"Uh-oh," he heard from the direction of Daphne, barely even whispered.

The troll seemed to have heard, as it turned its attention towards the source of the sound. Spotting the three little first years, it grunted and began to sprint towards them, every step vibrating through the walls of the castle.

"Run!" Harry needlessly shouted, the three friends turned around and ran.

However, it turned out quite soon that they would need a better plan than simple running away, as they soon started to pant, while the troll still looked as fresh as when it had started to run. Which was not 'fresh' at all, but that had not changed either.

"To the secret passage!" Hermione cried. At the questioning glances of the other two and after some more panting, she added, "the collapsed one, it had two entrances… 'pant…' we lure him in, then leave through the other one and… 'pant…' lock both."

Harry, just like Daphne, nodded his assent and the group headed to one of the secrets they had found earlier in the day. It was a secret passage that led away from the castle, but it was blocked by a huge cave-in. The masses of stone had left something else that was now useful; there were two entrances to the passage: one large and one small which both would lock after being used.

While Harry ran along his two friends, he could mostly smell the troll coming nearer. Any moment, he expected a giant club to come down on his head, or an enormous hand to grab him and yank him up into the air. Suddenly, they were at the entrance and Hermione frantically tried to get the wall of solid stone to budge.

As the troll was only a few meters away, the wall finally vanished. The children burst along the ever-narrowing corridor, the troll getting slower and slower, since he had to duck now. As Hermione started opening the second entrance to the secret corridor, the troll was actually stuck so badly between the floor, low roof and walls. Harry could nearly sympathise.

Nearly.

The children sank down the wall the passage had vanished into and tried to regain their breaths. Harry looked at the flushed faces of the two girls, both still panting as much as he was, and all of a sudden, they all started laughing. Harry had no idea why they did it, but he felt the tension, the fear, even part of the anxiety the day had caused him leave his body.

After they had regained their ability to breathe normally, Hermione, always the sensible one turned to Harry and Daphne. "We should really tell someone about this, you know? Who knows how long it'll be trapped," she proposed.

Almost as if to illustrate her point, the wall behind their backs shuddered under what was clearly the impact of a giant club.

"Great Hall?" Harry guessed, and the others nodded.

And so it came, that the three first-years entered the chaos that was the Great Hall, nearly tripping over the prone form of Professor Quirrell, unconscious on the floor. They walked briskly towards the head table and wondered who to talk to. Harry did not trust the headmaster completely, so it was either Snape or McGonagall.

"Snape or McGonagall?" he whispered to the others, who looked at the head table.

"McGonagall, she's Dumbledore's deputy," Hermione decided and they made their way towards her chair.

"Professor," Daphne started, but was briskly cut off by the stern voice of the transfiguration professor.

"Not now, Ms. Greengrass, we have the troll to deal with. Just follow your prefects to the dorms quickly and orderly," she ordered in her Scottish brogue.

"About the troll, we kind of ran into it already," Daphne explained, eliciting a small gasp from the usually calm teacher. "We were in the dungeons, when we met it. We trapped it into an unused passage, but we're not sure how long that will hold him."

"Perhaps you want to enlighten me, why you were not at the feast?" McGonagall, who had regained her usual composure now asked in a tone of voice that clearly told Harry it was more of an order than anything else.

"I…" he started, at a loss as to how to explain his feelings about the date to this teacher he barely knew.

"I really didn't feel like celebrating the day that…" There was no need for him to continue, as McGonagall just nodded and leaned towards the headmaster, who had started listening halfway through the conversation.

That evening, although still not festive for Harry, saw the pupils enjoy dinner in their house common rooms, where Harry and Daphne were forced to reiterate the story of their "troll-catching" numerous times. In the end, without the festivities, Harry enjoyed just having dinner with his best friend and their little group.

Still, Hermione and Neville were missing from their circle.

* * *

Friday, or 'after-troll-day' as Harry now thought, saw him wake up early to the silent moans of his dorm-mate. Cennydd was thrashing around in his sleep and seemed to be having an all-around bad time. Harry got up to wake his friend, in hopes of ridding him of the nightmares he, himself, was unhappily familiar with. He went over to the second bed and started shaking the sweating boy.

"Cennydd, wake up," he called out silently, unwilling to disturb him more than necessary. After another shaking and another silent "Wake up!" the dreaming boy shuddered silently and his eyes flew open.

"What! Where am I?" he uttered in a horrified voice.

"It's alright mate, you're in the dorms. You just had a nightmare," Harry answered in what he hoped was a consoling, reassuring voice.

"Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?" he asked the still frightened sweaty boy.

"Not really, to be honest," came the prompt and not-so-surprising answer.

"Suit yourself, but it might help you. I promise I won't tell anyone, or make fun of you," he tried to soothe his friend's nerves. Cennydd became very still for a few moments, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as if he was steeling himself for something entirely hard to do.

"It's the same dream over and over, actually. Haven't had it since I came to Hogwarts, no idea why it came back," he told Harry, his voice devoid of any emotion, his pain only visible in his tired, disturbed face. "I have no idea what it is, but it is always the same. Screaming, flashing lights. I know it sounds silly, but every time I have it, I am completely out of sorts the next day. These screams…" he shuddered.

To Harry, this all sounded a tad too familiar to be coincidence. He himself knew such a dream: a dream with a woman screaming, a bright green light. He supposed it was from the night his parents had died. Now that he knew they had been murdered by magic, the green flash also made way more sense than before.

"I know how you feel," he said to Cennydd as he sat down on his bed and looked at the distraught boy. At his dorm-mate's pronouncement, said boy looked a little questioningly, so Harry elaborated, "I have a dream like that, too. The screams, the lights. Well, just one light, bright and green."

He choked a little and forced himself to continue, "You know my parents were killed, and I think I'm dreaming of that night, of Voldemort's laughter and my mother's screams."

In complete shock, Cennydd sat there and seemingly analysed the situation he was presented with. "That might be the reason for your dream, but I'm muggleborn, and my parents are still alive," he concluded his analysis, making Harry feel a little stab in his heart at being reminded of his status as an orphan in such a rather blunt way.

Still, he kept his mouth shut, unwilling to disturb his friend any more.

* * *

Later that morning saw Daphne, Harry, Cennydd and Tracey at the breakfast table discussing their expectations for the day. Daphne's were not high, which she pointed out vocally to the rest of their group.

"Excuse me for not being happy about Snape`s so-called 'surprise test', but even with the warning those fourth-years gave us, three days are not long to cram for a potions exam, and Harry, if you don't erase that smug smile from your face right now, we're going to have a serious problem," the last bit she had directed at her best friend, whose annoyingly good mood concerning the potions test was bugging her incredibly. Meanwhile, said best friend had taken on a look of hurt which she could see was only partly mock. Now that she did not want.

"Am I really that bad?" he asked, again mock-hurt and real hurt mixed in his voice.

"Of course not, after all you helped me study for the test. It's just hard sometimes to see you have such an easy time with potions, even if Snape seems to dislike you," she explained, happily noting that the look of hurt was nearly gone from Harry's face. Before the conversation went further, the slight whooshing of hundreds of wings filled the air, signalling the arrival of the post owls.

One of the larger, more regal looking ones landed in front of Harry. It had a scroll bound to its claw adorned with a seal from the Ministry, which Harry unfastened. After nicking a piece of bacon from one of the platters and drinking some pumpkin juice from Harry's goblet, the bird took off again, while Harry broke the seal on the parchment.

As he started reading, Daphne could see the signs of him going into what she internally called 'guarded-Harry-mode'. Somehow, this scroll had reminded him of the Dursleys, somehow he felt threatened. Without another word, her best friend in the world got up, leaving behind his half-eaten breakfast and hurriedly left the hall.

* * *

Daphne entered the potions dungeon with a double feeling of agitation. The agitation that came with a potions test and the agitation that she felt over Harry's unusual departure from breakfast. He sat in the first row of workstations, nervously fidgeting with his robes and playing around with parchment and quill.

"Harry, are you okay?" she asked silently. Her best friend shuddered, stiffened as she touched his shoulder. He reminded her so eerily of the Harry she had met earlier that year that another source of agitation was added to her growing anxiety. She did not want to see him like this.

"I'm fine," he said in an emotionless voice, coupled with a shrug.

She looked at him with a questioning glance, but he avoided her eyes and instead lowered his eyes towards his workstation. Before she could continue to question him to get the contents of the letter out of him, Snape came in, followed by his usual, billowing cloak.

"I will be testing you on the pepper-up potion today, follow the directions on the board," he ordered in his silky voice.

With a gleam towards the youngest Weasley boy, he added, "Then, you will brew the potion. You have until the end of the lesson. Begin."

Daphne watched Harry scratch away, answering the questions on the board, but she could see her best friend was not really into the task. He would probably still score high points, even though he was obviously distracted, worried even. She managed to tear her gaze away from this boy who was so important to her and ordered her mind to concentrate on the questions that were on the board. They were actually manageable for a change, after having spent a lot of time with Harry, Tracey and Cennydd revising the subject.

She managed to finish in time, and although she was sure she had scraped at least a high Acceptable, Daphne did not manage to really be happy. Harry, who had left the potions classroom as abruptly as the Great Hall, was just not his usual self. She turned towards her other friends. No, if something bothered Harry, he would have talked to her if he would talk to someone.

"Hey, do you know anything about why Harry is like that? Did he tell you anything about the letter, Cennydd?" she asked, her tone almost pleading. With only sad nods as responses, she could not help the feeling of dread that settled over her.

"A ministry seal… his unclear status with his relatives… could it be…" she mulled around in her head.

* * *

Harry was in the same mood for the better part of the weekend. Whenever Daphne would try to talk to him, he was 'just fine.' If she tried touching or hugging him, he started to tense up even worse than when she had first met him. It all grated on Daphne's nerves severely, worried her to no end.

And it hurt.

"You know he doesn't do it on purpose, right?" Tracey asked her Sunday after lunch, a tender, caring smile on her face.

"I know; I just worry. He isn't usually like this, that's all. He's almost like when I first met him maybe even worse. Right after…" she just managed to hold herself back before she told the girl something Harry would not want her to know.

"Right after?" the somewhat nosy girl prodded, to Daphne's great consternation.

"Sorry, can't tell you. It's Harry's story to tell," she informed her friend, causing a crestfallen look on the petite witch's face.

"Guess I'll just have to ask him then. When he's a little more talkative maybe…" she mumbled, but Daphne barely even listened anymore, too worried about her friend's strange behaviour.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, was pacing in his office. That, in and of itself, was not very unusual. He did it a lot these days, more so than ever since the end of the last Civil War. The reason for his pacing, though was unusual: his conscience was weighing heavily on his mind.

With Quirrell acting 'strangely' and his sources giving him note of Voldemort's disappearance from his old hideout in Albania, not to mention the Gringotts break-in, he had to take care of Harry's safety. Having the stone in the castle was an unfortunate risk for the boy's safety, but sadly unavoidable. However, what he could do was keep him safe during his summers, which meant getting him back to his family, back to the blood of Lily Evans Potter.

He was sure of that now.

Behind him, his phoenix trilled a sad few notes, watching his friend doing his manipulating. Albus knew what his familiar was doing, because he himself felt almost disgusted by his manipulations. The only thing he could do to console himself over using his contacts at the ministry to force Harry back to the Dursleys, forcing him to go back over the holidays even, was telling himself two things over and over again: ' _It's for the Greater Good_ and _they're his family, they will not treat him too badly_.'

* * *

It was Sunday evening and Harry was sitting on his bed, glumly staring at the wall opposite of him. The Ministry letter was lying beside him after he had read it again, hoping to find something more than what he had been able to get from his first read, especially considering his panicked state of mind during the first time. However, even with his second and third read, he had been unable to find a way out.

"Fourth time's the charm," he chuckled inwardly without any mirth.

 _Dear Mister Potter,_

 _It has recently come to my attention that you have illegitimately left the care of your current guardians, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Privet Drive No. 4, Surrey._

 _The current arrangement for temporary guardianship given to Auror and Mrs. Greengrass due to the illegitimacy of your coming to stay with them, has been overturned. Therefore, as per the agreement reached with your relatives by this department, you are to return to your family over the holidays, until a formal complaint against their supposed mistreatment of you can be processed._

 _In light of this development, please see the school healer, Madam Pomfrey, to receive the medical exam you were unable to when you were in the Ministry earlier this year._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Kyle Spencer_

 _Head of Magical Child Protective Services_

* * *

AN: Hey guys and gals,

I am sorry for the short and late chapter, but I had an important exam and changed flats, that is just a lot of work. Hope you enjoy the chapter, please leave a review.

Thanks to Haphne24, my awesome beta.

alexandertheII


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